Dearly Beloved
by Nyx6
Summary: Dean and Lauren are newly engaged and looking forward to a nice easy time together. But when your Shield brother has betrayed you and your father and stepmother are after you both, easy times are hard to find. Throw in the absent Mama Ambrose and you have yourselves a party. True love never did run smooth. Part of the 'Who Do You Love' series.
1. The Mac To My Cheese

**Hey all are you ready for our favorite couple to come back and cause more mayhem? I hope so and before we start I just want to say thank you to everyone who is still with me on these two and especially to my lovely reviewers. Fingers crossed you like this one as much as you liked all of the others before it!**

 **Let's go then!**

* * *

 **The Mac To My Cheese**

"Uh oh."

I blinked as the familiarly gruff tones broke through the relative peace of the night and then padded towards me sluggishly on the carpet before falling down heavily into the cushion by my side. Dean was looking back at me smirking lopsidedly and to say the look confused me was an understatement,

"What?"

He gestured towards the flickering flatscreen and then waved his hand around,

"Weddin' shit already huh?"

Following his gaze I belatedly realized that I had been vaguely half-watching some uber cheesy Hallmark film and one which had apparently reached the super big finale since the pretty lead female character with perfect hair in loose ringlets was slipping like a princess into a pristine wedding gown, flanked by a woman that I assumed was her fake mother shedding crocodile tears and saying how beautiful she looked.

I blushed a little,

"I wasn't – I mean I wasn't trying to – ,"

"Princess," Dean reached over and patted at my head, smoothing my hair like I was some kind of labrador instead of his recently minted fiancée but making the movement so warming and easy that I ended up liking it so toppled over into his space.

"Mmmm."

I landed up against his broad chest pretty heavily but then proceeded to immediately bed myself in, tucking my arms in tight around his body and then using his abs like the best pillow ever made, or potentially the world's most hunky bed linen or more than likely both.

He was too perfect to be real.

His lips found out my crown and then pressed a kiss against it but it tickled and so I let out a tiny little laugh, which then turned into a full blown case of the giggles as he repeated it until I was forced to poke him in the ribs,

"Why are you so mean to me? Stop it."

Dean raised a brow at me,

"You think I'm mean to you huh?"

"I mean this is practically an abusive relationship."

"Ouch."

He threw me an actual pout in response to that which I could only really see by craning my eyes up but sure enough, his bottom lip was sticking right out and so I lifted a finger and pushed it back in which then predictably laid me wide open to a bite.

 _Snap_.

I squeaked as his canines closed in gently over the tip of my newly painted nail, which had taken me literally hours to get perfect without either smudging or somehow messing it up and which had pretty rapidly made me remember precisely why I never bothered with it much, since having your fingertips looking a pretty color was not even remotely worth the mental breakdown it threw up. Plus because I had the crazy sort of a boyfriend who liked to bite things including me.

Oops.

Fiancé –

Dean and I were engaged now as the ring on my third finger beautifully proved and never more so than when it was twinkling in the moonlight or the glow of the television that was lighting up the room. It was a simple design, because neither one of us was fancy, but the twisted and studded band was pretty much the perfect choice. Not that I would have turned down anything the man had proffered, since the message had been the main thing.

He wanted to marry me.

 _Me_.

Leaving my finger between his teeth I pushed up on him and then had to bit my lip at the intensity of his blue eyes, which were a mixture of tease filled and sleepy arousal that made me feel warm inside,

"Bad boy, drop."

Dean let my nail tip go in an instant which then freed up his too tempting mouth for a smile, but one of his ludicrously proud little smug ones that made me surge in towards him and crash our mouths together hard. So hard in fact that his head flew backwards and banged back against the soft cushions of the couch, unable to move as I cupped at his cheekbones and then kissed him like I possibly thought that one of us might die or else like I was in one of those crazy action movies and was sharing rescue breaths having been thrown into a tank.

"Fuck – ,"

Dean grunted the word out clumsily around our frantic tangling of tongues but then recovered his faculties enough to flip us over so that he was suddenly above me and newly in control.

He grinned when we parted,

"Princess, I'll be honest here, if this is how watchin' weddin' movies gets you, then I'm all fuckin' for you lookin' up a whole bunch more, or maybe recordin' 'em to watch later when you're feelin' it. I mean, it's not exactly porn but whatever works for you, y' know?"

I rolled my eyes,

"It isn't the – ,"

"Ssssh," Dean leaned in closer and then kissed me again longingly, "You keep thinkin' those bad thoughts baby. Need me to talk dirty? Like, I don't know the right terms here. How 'bout _buttonholes_? _Bridesmaids_? _Color schemes_? Does that kinda shit get my girl all hot?"

"Nope."

He raised a brow at me,

"Nothin' for bridesmaids? Because I gotta tell you Princess, that one gets _me_ hot."

In response to him I tried my best to look unhappy but it turned out to be essentially impossible to pull off since I honestly hadn't been truly unhappy in the ten months that had passed since I had climbed into his car and then practically forced him to ferry me to Louisiana on my hellbent mission to meet my long lost dad. It was safe to say the results of _that_ had been patchy but it had thrown a blue eyed lunatic into my life and given me a home and a ring and a career no less.

It was totally a swings and roundabouts sort of a thing.

Behind us on the walls the early hours of the morning painted weird shapes across the room and then twisted them like ghouls in the flickering light of the movie but pressed beneath Dean I felt totally safe and expressed that thought by prodding his nose tip with a cutesy noise to match the gesture.

"Boop."

"What the hell was that?"

I grinned,

"It's the noise that the internet community has decided pets make when they bump you with their heads, it's pretty adorable, look, I'll show you, I've got a whole bunch of them saved on my phone."

"Princess – ,"

I turned pretty rapidly beneath the press of his body to grope the coffee table for my compendium of memes, mentally planning which one was the best to show him and then rapidly settling on the one of the tiny pig and not even remotely because I was building up to ask him if maybe we could look into having a mini pig ourselves.

"You're going to love this."

"Lauren – ," Dean shut me down quickly by pressing his lips in hot across my neck and then subtlety hooking the hand that was reaching outwards before bringing it back and pressing it down against my chest.

"Mmmm."

"We are not gettin' another fuckin' animal you hear me?"

I blinked at him,

"But I never even – ,"

"Didn't have to Princess, you're not exactly freakin' lowkey when you want stuff or is it some coincidence that you've been cuttin' up my pancakes into the shape of fuckin' pigs for the last two weeks?"

Damn.

In the moment I also instantly regretted having asked him if we could rent either _Babe_ or else _Charlotte's Web_ to watch sometime and potentially also for having started a conversation about whether or not he thought our dog needed a friend, but perhaps a very small one and maybe of another species so that he didn't get upset and think we were trying to turf him out.

I sighed,

"Am I not even a little bit lowkey?"

"Not even slightly, but you are fuckin' cute, so I dunno if that takes the edge off the whole thing or whatever – ,"

I lifted my head keenly for another kiss,

"Uh huh."

Dean snorted at me but then leaned himself in closer and was angling to give me the smooch of my life when suddenly there was the sound of tapping feet on the hardwood and the appearance of a pair of soulful looking brown eyes that peered across the comfy couch cushions towards us,

"Boom-Boom."

He responded by trying to lick my face and probably would even have easily reached me had Dean not hauled me up out of the way, whereupon our pooch clambered up onto the sofa in a flagrant breach of the _no furniture_ rule but which slipped by unreprimanded because he looked too cute doing it, not to mention hugely comfy curled up on the couch. Dean too settled himself back into the cushions and I leaned up against him,

"So this is the kind of weddin' you want Princess?"

"What?"

In response to my baffled little grunt of confusion, he gestured loosely towards the blinking screen, where the happy star-crossed couple were evidently getting married and grinning like the biggest pair of fake idiots I had ever seen. In terms of the wedding the producers of the movie had gone for a fully traditional big white type thing, with pretty pink carnations lining the aisle and a flower girl and a white gown and the whole nine yards feel.

But was that what I wanted?

I blinked.

His question threw me because I had never been someone who had planned my big day as a girl and beyond having helped my best friend pick her own gown out, my experience of weddings was limited at best. Way back when I had been seeing my ex-boyfriend I had occasionally thought about how the day might be, but it had always been more in terms of who might be invited or who among those people had dietary needs. I had certainly never tried to work out my first dance song, or how to get the blue, borrowed, old and new thing done. But I guessed that even in those half moments of thoughtfulness I had naturally pictured things fluffy and white.

I shrugged in return and then hummed a little,

"Um, I guess so."

"Ha, I fuckin' knew you'd say that."

"Why?"

"Because – ," Dean grunted before moving himself slightly so that the back of my head bounced up off his abs, "Fits your whole cherry pie, girl next door thing to have a real nice weddin' with speeches an' shit an' I mean, that's what I wanna be able to give you but – ,"

Dean tapered off and huffed a sigh out.

"But?"

Leaning back against him I could feel his body stiffen like he was frustrated about something and it frightened me a bit because what if he was suddenly regretting having asked me or thinking about the potential cost and pitfalls of the whole thing?

 _Oh god, oh god_.

Panic overtook me and I was about to scramble upright and beg him not to change his mind when he placed a loving kiss on the top of my head again and then snorted roughly,

"My family ain't the nice weddin' kind."

I blinked for a second.

Huh?

 _Oh_.

His family.

It was a subject we tended not to touch on too much since I knew that his childhood had been pretty badly troubled and wasn't a time he liked to think about a lot and also that his links to his living blood relations were ever so slightly fractious to say the least. In fact in our whole ten months of being together I had never even been to his hometown once and I had never been introduced or so much as talked to his mother, since the few times she phoned he had always left the room and then come back all tense and angry in a way that broke my heart. Dean deserved so much more and particularly from the people who were supposed to love him totally and so to that end I found and then grabbed hold of his hand, pressing it in between my palms and then stroking it,

"We can swap if you like and you can have mine?"

He snorted at me,

"Jesus,"

But at least he was grinning since in the scheme of crappy families we were pretty evenly matched, because while he had a mother who had struggled with dependency I had the unending joy of Hunter and Steph who had variously welcomed me into the family, then held me captive in the hopes that I would give my boyfriend up.

It hadn't worked.

Besides, Dean wasn't my boyfriend he was my _fiancé_ and why in the hell could I not remember that? Possibly because we hadn't told anyone apart from Roman and my best massively excited best friend and so therefore the whole thing was still kind of a secret.

Dean kissed my head again,

"We should just fuckin' run off an' do it on a beach in the middle of nowhere."

"Is that _your_ perfect wedding?"

He shrugged,

"Don't have one."

"Roman would be upset at having to skip the best man speech."

I was only sort of partly kidding on that point but at the same time saying it practically stabbed a knife through me since the point only emphasized what both of us had lost and the fact that not four short weeks earlier there totally would have been _two_ best men had the person we thought we had known so very faithfully not turned his back in the most brutal and public way.

Seth Rollins.

 _Ugh_.

His name physically pained me, like some post traumatic stress from having been hit in the head and the symptoms of which had only recently left me having wiped me out completely for fully almost two weeks. Instinctively my hand moved up to paw through my hairline to where the egg shaped welt had sat pretty for a while but had slowly been absorbed and reverted back to normal, even though the thing still twinged a little from time to time.

"It won't be the same."

Dean kissed me,

"I know baby."

Evidently he had been thinking along the same lines and it succeeded in drawing a stunted silence between us as we blinked pretty idly towards the television screen. Back with the movie the blushing bride and her mother were sharing a tearful moment that ended in a hug and for the second time in easily as many stupid minutes, I felt a lump rise up in my throat.

 _Ouch_.

Because that would be the other person notably missing when Dean and I finally managed to tie the knot. My own beloved mother would be achingly absent and suddenly in the darkness that seemed both unfair and so wrong.

"Dean – ,"

I twisted myself into his shirt front and then gripped up the fabric as the tears began to fall and he paused for a second, clearly not sure what was happening before closing his arms around me,

"Whoa, hey now, what's wrong?"

"My – my mom won't – won't be there,"

He blew out a breath,

"I know baby an' it fuckin' sucks."

"Neither of us is going to have our mom at our wedding."

In the moment it seemed like a pretty big thing, because who in the hell tried to start their married life off without the blessings of the people who had brought them into the world and yet how the hell _could_ we if the people in question were either gone or estranged?

It felt like we were cursed.

Boomer moved in closer and then poked his tongue out to lick the pinky finger of my nearest free hand and I tickled him lovingly under the muzzle in return for it, since I figured that one of us should have probably been at peace.

Dean grunted mildly,

"Well that's probably somethin' we should talk about."

He sounded so hesitant that I actually blinked and then looked up from the patch on his shirt that I had managed to make snotty and also pretty wet with my sudden tear storm.

"What is?"

"My mom."

I swiped my cheeks off,

"What about her?"

Dean grumbled a little and then reached a hand down, brushing the remains of my wet skin with his thumb pad the way he always did when I was having a blub and which he had managed to pick up on pretty fast in our romance given the number of crazy things that had variously gone down, from full blown kidnapping and hostage situations to assaults and a million situations in between. His thumbs had been there to comfort every one of them.

Did it mean I was weird if I loved my boyfriend's thumbs?

Fiancé, he was totally my fiancé –

Idiot _._

"I was thinkin' that you should maybe meet her y' know?"

It was entirely possible that I responded with a _huh_ noise since his sentence was the very last thing I had expected to hear and so was therefore so totally out of the left field that for a second I figured I had obviously misheard and so replied with a baffled little snort of incredulity which bubbles out loud in the silence,

"You think _what_ now?"

"I'm serious Princess, I mean, not that I've ever really done it before because most of the girls I've been with or whatever were more like _casual_ things y' know? But I figure if the two of us are gonna be official an' sign papers an' that shit then you should probably – ,"

He tailed off and then waved his hand in lieu of a finish because for him it was obviously a pretty big deal and so therefore the fact that he was even suggesting doing it fired me with excitement and purpose and a lot of love since evidently I would be the first girlfriend ever to meet his mother.

I bit my lip,

"Are – are you sure?"

"'Bout you meetin' her I am but what I haven't freakin' figured is how it's gonna go _her_ meetin' _you_."

"In case I say something wrong?"

I blinked at him openly because I honestly thought that had to be it but instead Dean pulled back and gaped for second, then blew out a snort so utterly disbelieving that it pushed a few loose strands of hair up off my face,

"You fuckin' kiddin' me with that shit Princess?"

"Um, no?"

"You're perfect baby, I'm not fuckin' worried about you, I'm worried about _her_ sayin' somethin' to upset you or being all wasted or maybe even worse."

I blinked a little.

Yikes.

"Does she get like that often?"

I was trying hard to sound like I wasn't vaguely horrified because the last thing I wanted was for him to back out or come to the conclusion that I couldn't possibly handle the potential levels of drunkenness his mother might show. My question came out far too nonchalant however because Dean raised a brow at me,

"You want me to lie?"

"No."

"Because I'm thinkin' maybe I should, or like hire an actress so that she doesn't put you off."

"Put me off what?"

Earlier in the evening I had made myself a mint tea which I had then pretty swiftly forgotten all about but was in the process of trying to gulp through as he answered, but then turned out to be fairly horribly timed.

"Put you off wantin' to marry me or somethin'."

I promptly began to choke on the tea, to the point where I genuinely couldn't breathe properly until Dean sat straighter and forced me up too as I spluttered while his broad hands patted me helpfully.

"How – ," I wheezed as cold mint stung my windpipe, "How could you think that?"

I was crying again, but only because inhaling herbal infusions straight into the lungs was not a great thing and was actually probably as close to water boarding as I was likely to or frankly _wanted_ to come.

Dean gazed back at me,

"Princess, you haven't met her."

"Doesn't matter," I replied in newly indignant tones, "Nothing she could do would change how I feel about you and I don't care what she says, or if she upsets me or if she's drunk because you are the best thing that's happened to me ever and that means I can cope with anything, in fact bring it on."

In order to prove my point I put my curled fists up like I was ready to step up into the ring and my fiancé laughed but then gently teased them open before steering them harmlessly back into my lap,

"Alright Rocky, maybe simmer down huh?"

"I mean it."

"I know," Dean leaned in and kissed my head again and I fell against his chest and inhaled his scent deeply,

"Dean?"

"What's up Princess?"

"Can we get a pig?"

"No **."**

* * *

 **So there we have it then, the first chapter back for these two and the good news (I hope) is that this story is going to be longer than the other ones have been (excluding the first because that was LONG) so settle in folks, this one is going to be crazy!**


	2. Working For The Man

**Back into the action in this chapter then. Welcome to Money In The Bank 2014 so a pretty good week to be posting this chapter...here's hoping our lunatic makes a return in real life this weekend!**

 **Minnie1015, Figured it was the next step on their little journey, the big meet-the-parents moment. Besides, when it comes to their families they're both kind of screwed in this so time to share the love I guess!**

 **ShieldGirlBecky, Aww, thank you so much, I love when people love my little couple. I never in a million years thought I would write this many stories about then but it turns out I can't give them up! Hope you enjoy!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Thanks! Hope you're ready for another Lauren and Dean rollercoaster ride of a story (this one is pretty nuts!)**

 **Mandy, I'm glad you like their idle couple banter, I love writing it maybe too much?! Good news, Seth is in this one being his weaselly heel self. He was so GOOD being bad! He's coming up a little more in this story too!**

 **Skovko, Haha, maybe a oneshot story of Lauren trying to house train a mini pig while Dean watches with a hankering for a bacon sandwich?! Yep, Dean is insecure and that comes up next chapter too (poor baby).**

 **LunaticxLass, I think if Lauren had her way then their house would be full of waifs and strays. Maybe I should just have them move to a farm to keep the girl happy?! Glad you're back, plenty of madness in this one!**

 **Labinnacslove, Aww, glad you think so and I'm super glad to have you on board for this new crazy ride of theirs. Might be one of the craziest ones yet both in and out of the wrestling ring. But for this chapter we're definitely in the wrestling ring!**

 **Back to the madness then...**

* * *

 **Working For The Man**

In the near five week stint I had been working on commentary as the first full time female to be handed the role, I had learnt that there were both pros and cons to it and so had mentally been making myself a little list. Positive points included the receival of fan mail, including lots of letters from tiny little girls who suddenly wanted to grow up to be commentators and which honestly made the feminist in me kind of swell. Downsides were the letters from the lonely _male_ viewers whose thoughts were often explicitly less pure and were sometimes even sent through with certain pictorial evidence that for the most part the mail room managed to get to first.

Not always though.

Ick.

Men were pretty weird creatures but on the plus side no one was following me home and so it turned out that the single biggest pitfall of my position was having front rows seats to whenever my boyfriend got beaten up and then having to try and talk my way through it.

I said boyfriend again.

 _Fiancé_.

Damn it all.

From over in the ring there was a sudden loud clatter and I startled in my seat as my senses snapped back and perfectly in time with the packed crowd exploding and a ladder toppling over and hurling a performer from its rungs

I blinked.

Dean?

Michael Cole hastened to fill the gaps in with Jerry 'The King' Lawler not too far behind in the weirdly high pitched shriek that he ever seemed to favor and which made him sound like a housewife chasing birds from her lawn,

"Eek – ,"

"Kofi Kingston off the top rope and taking on the men outside of the ring."

Peering across the ropes and surveying the chaos was the man who had pushed the tall ladder from its feet and who was clad in a grubby and sweat stained grey wife beater and a pair of fantastically too tight blue jeans. Dean was up and evidently uninjured and that was a very good thing for me.

Jerry Lawler chuckled in amazement,

"Did you see that?"

I had been trying _not_ to see, since the entire match seemed like a recipe for disaster to the point that I couldn't believe the thing was real. Because frankly putting more than two wrestlers in the ring together was always a pretty horrible idea and so therefore having six of them brawling with one another and with ladders no less felt like playing with fire.

I resisted the urge to hide behind my fingers.

 _Go Dean, go_.

Evidently he heard my plea, because the next thing I knew he was hauling the ladder upright and hustling it back to the center of the ring and beneath the swinging suspended golden briefcase that they were bickering over –

I still wasn't too sure why.

Dean had grumbled something at me earlier about being able to cash the thing in for a title shot, but had then talked about having to wait for the right moment and keeping it close which had left me a little lost. In my eleventh month stint in sports entertainment, it was safe to say that I had learned a ton of stuff but watching grown men scooting up and down ladders for a garish looking briefcase reminded me of how new I still was and also of how crazy wrestling could be.

I mean really.

Michael Cole kept the commentary up,

"Dean Ambrose beginning to climb up the ladder – ,"

I held my breath as my eyes found out my man, partly because I wanted him to win it and his heavily taped fingers were so very close, but also because I hated him in peril and especially when it came to bone-shattering heights. Frankly I had almost had a total conniption when he had mounted the coffee table to put our holiday lights up and so having to watch him halfway up a twelve foot ladder was by no means my favorite way to get paid.

Blonde and black hair suddenly streaked in towards him,

"Ugh, Seth get out of the way."

I threw my hands up and then banged them on the announce desk loud enough to carry the sound through the microphones but sadly not loud enough for the turncoat to hear me since he grabbed Dean by the belt loops and pulled him back down.

"Now Seth Rollins looking to climb up the ladder –,"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jerry Lawler threw in before chuckling a little at the pushing and shoving as Dean and the brother who had utterly betrayed us swapped places several times on the bottom few rungs, which then ended up with my man introducing the metal of the ladder to Seth's cranium.

I grinned a little smugly,

"Scumbag, ladder, ladder, scumbag."

Michael Cole grunted but kept forging on,

"Remember Seth Rollins wanted Ambrose in this match up, he wanted to keep an eye on his former teammate and make sure he couldn't come out of the shadows and end up costing him his title shot."

I snorted,

"Well then _maybe_ he shouldn't go swinging chairs at people,"

Back in the ring Dean was setting the ladder up and propping it in place on the second ring of the turnbuckle in a position that already looked painful and raw. Seth was rolling on the ground like a limp fish and so Dean stalked across and quickly hauled him up, before trying to get him into position for a suplex which the younger man squirmed from,

"Oh no," Jerry cut in, "Yeah, you'd better try to block that – ,"

From beside them I looked on with my heart in my windpipe and not simply because they kept trading places but because I still wasn't used to watching them fight and couldn't help but flash back to the long hours spent together with the four of us making towns and bickering in the car.

How could that have changed so completely?

How could they be trying to kill each other now?

Dean landed the hold and flipped Seth up and over and the impact on his spine crunching into the ladder made me actually shudder in response and took away any sort of sense of satisfaction even though he had earned every second of the pain. He rolled out onto the floor writhing in agony and I huffed in response to it,

"Huh, serves him right."

"Remember," Michael Cole offered up imperiously like the people at home watching were totally brain dead or else had the recall of a carnival goldfish, "Rollins is the man who stabbed Dean in the back and brought a chair down on the head of his girlfriend – ,"

I groaned in response to him,

"Don't remind me, ugh."

Dean was continuing to scramble up the ladder like some sort of totally cute monkey up a tree and had his fingers practically on the prize a _second_ time when Jack Swagger unwelcomingly came ploughing back in and then proceeded to hamper my boyfriend at near enough every turn.

Boyfriend?

 _Holy crap_.

In many ways I was beginning to actively worry about my sheer inability to call him my fiancé, because I thought it meant that there was potentially something wrong with me, which I was still thinking through as Dean rolled from the ring.

"No, no, no – ,"

But he was gone from the picture and so instead I had to watch the other players flood back in and then enter themselves into the same painful cycle of nearly climbing the ladder but then being knocked back down. But only when they weren't being body slammed or suplexed and then falling face first in a pile of bruised limbs.

Ouch.

I genuinely felt for every single one of them.

Possibly even including Seth, who clambered back into the ring looking bewildered but then promptly began tangling with Rob Van Dam, who put his impressive kicking skills into action in targeted strikes to both body and head. Michael Cole continued like he was reading out crossword puzzles on a lazy afternoon picnic in the sun,

"All the superstars chosen for this match up were hand selected by COO Triple H."

Dad.

I grumbled on instinct merely thinking about it because that was the way my father's name made me feel and which hurt like hell since not three months before that, it would have warmed me to hear people talking with reverence for my old man. But then again _that_ had been before he had drugged me and then kept me locked up for nearly a week.

Father, Dad, Triple H, Hunter –

Every last one of them felt like a bad word.

Back between the ropes Rob had planted a rolling thunder right on the ribs of a ladder prone Seth, the force of which pulled a hiss from the arena and then a series of chuckles as he slid from the ring. Predictably perhaps one of those included Michael in his usual wry timbre,

"Welcome to Money in the Bank Seth."

Dean charged back into the fray at that point and my heart lifted up about ten foot in the air, because even slicked with sweat and with his blue eyes bulging in fight mode, he was still the most impressive specimen of a man I had ever seen.

"Yay, he's back."

My happiness was short-lived though as Rob promptly send him back out onto the floor and with a kick that I hoped hadn't knocked any teeth loose since I frankly preferred my man with a smile.

"So," John Bradshaw put in suddenly, "Tell us what's it like living with the lunatic fringe."

"Huh?"

I had pretty much forgotten that he was even sitting next to me since the outspoken man had been uncharacteristically quiet and which based on the tissues sat littering the desktop was because he had been hit with a man flu bug.

In spite of that though, he was pretty insistent,

"Is he this crazy at home or – ,"

I bristled,

"No he's not, in fact he's normal and sweet and very sensible."

But my proud fiancée answer then promptly fell flat as the familiar wife beater slid back between the ring ropes and then proceeded to scamper his way up the rungs, where Seth had managed to haul his battered body to the top of the mountain.

I gaped at him,

 _Dean, no._

"Wait, wait, wait," Jerry barked abruptly, having devolved to where he could only call out base words and which seemed like an unfortunate trait in a commentator who went into full meltdown in times of tension or high stress.

Hold up, he was stressed?

It wasn't _his_ partner up there evidently about to make the biggest bump of the whole night and as Dean manhandled his former brother into position, I toyed with ripping my headset clean off and then following them up there to beg him not to do it but moving too slowly because he pulled the move anyway –

"Eek."

For a second I wasn't entirely sure who had whimpered since it was pretty much a toss up between King and myself and hardly mattered as we watched in slow motion while the form of my boyfriend flew smoothly through the air and then landed with such a phenomenal impact that it flipped his body over and then thumped it back down. Seth went too but could have broken into pieces for all that I cared since I only had eyes for my man.

"Superplex from the top of the ladder, you gotta be _kidding_ me."

Nope, no kidding.

Both men were down and apparently out or at the very least exhausted and probably befuddled since I could only assume that falling twelve feet backwards knocked the wind from the proverbial sails quite a lot.

Jerry gaped,

"Dean Ambrose must be plain _nuts_ to do that."

"He's doing it because he's getting payback for me."

"By trying to kill himself?"

I shrugged back numbly blinking at my boyfriend who was prone in the ring but blinking at least so therefore not unconscious and in the grand scheme of things, I could get on board with that,

"Um, it's cheaper than flowers and chocolates?"

"I'm not sure the human body was designed to take this," JBL commented through a wadded up tissue as he watched several angles of never ending replay.

Who even cut the footage that quickly?

Dean somehow managed to haul himself back up and was in the process of setting the stupid ladder right a final time, when Dolph Ziggler was promptly catapulted back at him at which point the metal rungs bounced in off his forehead and succeeded in almost knocking him out.

Crap.

It was honestly one of the more brutal sort of match ups that I had ever been given the opportunity to see and yet while I was horrified and very mildly nauseous, there was also a massive part of me that simply couldn't look away and was the reason I watched mesmerized through the next haphazard segment as Jack Swagger and Rob Van Dam went at it in the ring but both of them looking completely exhausted like they barely had the strength to even hold up their heads.

Evidently the briefcase was very important –

I would have to get Dean to explain it to me again.

Dean.

I smiled a little on instinct and then subconsciously wiggled the third finger of hand, where my beautiful engagement band usually sat pretty but which I tended to take off when we were at work. Frankly the last thing that either one of us needed was the powers that be knowing we had taken the big next step, because while we didn't know precisely what would happen, we knew that being promised would have _some_ form of clapback. Probably from my father and vicious stepmother, who I couldn't imagine wanting to see us happy at all and potentially from Randy who had made it blindingly evident that he had some weird obsession about me and him being a thing.

No way.

In fact I wasn't even sure that Vince wouldn't get in on it and try to make some weird story angle from it all and so in the end it had simply seemed easier and safer to pretend that nothing had happened to rock the boat and that Dean and I were still a regular couple –

Regular in that one of us was halfway up a ladder.

Perfectly normal.

"Come on you handsome hunk, _go_."

Michael Cole peered across in amusement as my nickname laden burst of encouragement fluttered loose and then coughed into his hand before picking back up the action in a way that I knew I would hear about later on.

"Ambrose and Rollins at the top of the ladder, one of these men could be _mister money in the bank."_

Jerry Lawler chuckled,

"Look at 'em, here they go folks."

Dean and Seth were trading punches at the top and even though I was possibly biased, it was clear that my man had the upper hand all sewn up as he rained down a mixture of slaps and roundhouse body blows in the hopes of knocking his former brother off and each one of which got him closer to that moment and therefore potential victory –

Jack freaking Swagger messed it up.

"Oh for the love of all things good and holy," I yelled into the microphone as the big wrestler hauled Dean back but then swiftly morphed it into a cheer of elation as my boyfriend countered it beautifully with a top rung DDT.

Nope.

 _Fiancé_.

Because that was my future husband from his crazy sweaty hair to his chiselled but sticky abs and particularly the sweet little ass tucked so neatly into the specially made and scandalous jeans which emphasized that tiny, ridiculous little waist of his but also his pretty impressively sized thighs.

"Looks like Dean Ambrose might have hurt his shoulder."

Huh?

I snapped out of my trance and looked at my man including the way he was shuffling about and the arm that he was keeping in close to his middle like moving it in any way was proving too much.

"Oh no," I whispered brokenly, "Baby."

Luckily we weren't the only people to have seen the rub, because suddenly both the referee and ringside physician were bent in over him and fighting a losing battle to make him sit still. Dean was like a child who was waiting at the dentist for his bi-yearly check-up at the very best of times and so the fact they thought they could make him see reason in the middle of a match was an optimistic thing and particularly considering the match was for a title shot and also included the man he hated most in the world.

I could hear him bellowing from where I was sitting,

"Pull me back in, pull me back in."

Hands were rolling him out off onto the apron but my poor battered man was fighting them with all he had and frankly short of them physically sedating him like some sort of wild animal, I knew in a heartbeat they would fail.

But what if he needed real medical attention?

I had my headphones off and onto the table pretty much before I could blink and found myself rounding the ring like a racehorse in a fully instinctive need to get to him fast and all the while watching more crew members pour inwards until six authority figures were trying their best to hold Dean back. I sped up my pace but it wasn't that easy considering the matting was littered with broken forms and about thirteen more ladders than I figured were necessary since one of the damn things alone could do plenty damage enough.

"Dean – ," I called out to him as I rounded the corner and then vaulted a body to plough through the bank of shirts and in the process managing to knock them off like skittles as I buried myself with force into the chest of my man,

"Princess?"

In return he seemed a little baffled, like he couldn't figure out why I was suddenly even there, but his shoulders dropped back ever so slightly as I wrapped my arms around him to stop him from hurting himself more.

"Please let them look at you,"

"Can't fuckin' let him win it, he's not gonna win this – ,"

I assumed he meant Seth and so rose onto my tiptoes and did the one thing I could think of, irrespective of the cameramen following us around. I kissed him. Not hard or passionate or lustful but hard enough at least to take him out of himself and he responded by ghosting his hands across my lower back like he wasn't sure whether to hold me or try to push off the embrace.

His lips mumbled against mime,

"What are you – ,"

"Please Dean," I interrupted him pleadingly as I finally stepped back, "Let them look at you."

"Fine."

He waved his hands at me and then turned and stalked up the rampway so fast that I was actually forced to physically _trot_ since there was no way in hell I was letting his ass get checked over without my being there to help temper his mood.

Rounding into gorilla however I froze on instinct.

Crap.

Because all of them were right there –

From Stephanie huddled in a chair in the corner where the monitors were set up for the powers that be to watch, to Hunter standing by the hallway with Randy and talking in whispered tones that then hushed fully up as Dean and I skittered back into the fold of things looking sweaty and stressed and hugely obvious at once. My boyfriend however seemed not to even see them, since his mind and his general focus was on Seth.

"Scum suckin' weasel with his stupid fuckin' blond streak like some crazy ass badger. He likes hittin' his friends with chairs, huh? Bury one right into his ass, see how he likes _that_ – ,"

I kept myself pressed up tight against him anyway and then stayed there while one of the hesitant looking medics stepped in and began to gently probe around at his shoulder while firing out questions that were resolutely ignored,

"Does this hurt?"

In all honesty they could have taken a bat to him and my boyfriend would have simply kept on blinking through the pain since he was pretty much like an intractable bloodhound having picked up the scent of the perpetrator of some crime.

"How about if I press here?"

"Dean?" I prodded gently, but his blue eyes were looking past me to a point on a monitor screen that had been suspended on the wall ridiculously loftily and therefore gave everyone milling around in the backstage area a nearly perfect view of Seth back in the ring and climbing the metal steps of the ladder unchallenged with the crazy golden briefcase a mere hairs breath from his hand.

Uh oh.

Dean was back on the move in a second, in a heady blitz past the medic which tore him clean from my arms,

"Wait – ," I yelped before hearing a snigger and the sound of it filled me pretty instantly with dread. Peering back across my shoulder revealed my stepmother, sitting back with her legs crossed over and beaming up a storm since it obviously looked like I couldn't control my boyfriend and was precisely the situation they had forewarned me about.

Fiancé.

 _Ugh_.

I turned and headed back after him in spite of the fact I was miles too far behind, because running had never particularly been my forte when it came to pursuits of the athletic kind and so therefore by the time I made it out onto the ramping and halfway to the ring, Dean was already inside and hauling Seth back off the ladder by his boot sole as the crowd blew up and predictably went wild.

"Ouch, stitch."

I got to the ring steps in a painful limping shamble as Dean picked up a chair and then proceeded to hammer it into his former brother as the younger man burst and then began to writhe with pain.

Um –

I honestly wasn't sure whether to somehow try to stop it or let it go on for about a year more, since part of me would always hate seeing Seth hurting, while a far larger part than I generally approved of loved every bit of the thing and more, since him getting payback was actually pretty beautiful and likely mean that I had turned into a sadist or something now. Dean continued to beat the living crap out of him until his banged up shoulder couldn't take anymore and then collapsed in a heap against the ropes holding his elbow, before gathering the strength to toss Seth to the floor.

 _Smack_.

I peeked a little apprehensively around the ring steps and then stood watching the person that I used to know so well as he flopped like a lead weight onto the matting before turning in my direction and blinking at me a few times more. Presumably he had no clue why I was at ringside when I probably should have been sat at the announce table with my headphones on, but in the moment I actually liked being back out there in the action and cheering on my man.

Because _boy_ was I cheering,

"Keep going, you're so close, another couple of steps and you've got it – ,"

I was aware that I sounded a lot like a mom, trying to get her baby to toddle across the room to her, but in the moment I figured that nobody would care, besides which it actually seemed to be kind of working since Dean was hauling himself up the ladder towards the hanging prize.

Red lights, fireworks and music then kicked in.

Huh?

For a second the effect was so utterly blinding that I assumed he had grabbed the briefcase and managed to pull it loose and that the sudden explosions were victory pyrotechnics, which seemed a pretty kooky colored hue to go with but then again we worked in a kooky kind of place and so I kept on believing that my man had won the contest right up until the moment somebody shoved me from behind,

"Oof – ,"

I felt myself careening forward hard and clumsily then nearly struck the ring steps but luckily missed them by an inch and instead hit my knees and then sat blinking at the matting, feeling totally bewildered because who had hit me? Frowning up gave me some form of answer since standing freakishly tall at the foot of the ladder and pulling Dean back was an entirely red-clad man, with a mask across his face and long hair slapping across it that I recognized at once and then gaped at fully,

"Kane?"

How and why the hell was he out there?

Maybe he wanted the title opportunity for himself?

It certainly seemed plausible, since he was no longer a main attraction and so was unlikely to be handed a shot any other way and so to my addled mind therefore that _had_ to be the reason that he was tussling in a match he wasn't meant to be in, because he certainly had no other problem with my boyfriend. I mean maybe a couple of months ago sure, back when Kane and The Shield boys had been feuding, but since then Kane had helped them to rescue me from captivity and so I figured we had reached an uneasy truce of sorts right?

Dean flew upwards and then the mat heavily as a chokeslam knocked the wind from him.

" _No_ – ," I wailed,

Maybe not.

But the worst of the sudden and unwarranted intervention was evidently still yet to come, because as I looked on in absolute horror, my boyfriend was pulled upright and then flipped upside down for the worst move of them all and the one that even I knew sent shockwaves through a match up any time the it was pulled out. Instantly I pushed myself up onto my feet again but was far too late to be able to help and so instead I had to watch as Dean was thumped back earthwards in a tombstone piledriver that focused entirely on his head.

"Oh god – ,"

I stumbled back feeling hugely nauseous and shaky, like my world had been turned completely upside down, then surged instinctively towards my fallen fiancé before being held back by unfamiliar hands,

"Whoa."

It was one of the earlier security people that had tried and failed to get Dean to the back but clearly had not led the encounter dim his enthusiasm since he flatly refused to let me take another step,

"Please," I whimpered, struggling against him, "He's not moving."

"Neither will you be if I let you up there."

Back in the ring Kane was holding the ladder and making sure it was stable as Seth scrambled up, looking as bewildered as the rest of us were feeling although the realization was obvious enough. My asshole of a father had intervened in the outcome to make sure that Dean hadn't picked up the big win and the thought of it made me struggle for freedom even harder and then cry hot angry tears as I had to watch the victory dance and then wait another long agonizing minute for the man that I had once thought of as my beloved older brother to strut his smug way right back up the ramp.

"Let _go_ ,"

I shucked myself roughly from the fingers and then blitzed across the matting to clamber back into the ring, crawling as I snivelled towards my fallen partner who was blinking towards the ceiling like he had no idea who he was, "Dean?"

Blue eyes fell lazily towards me and he frowned a little,

"Did – did I win?"

My heart broke into a million tiny pieces and I shook my head sadly as I reached out a hand, carding it through his sweaty copper scruff lovingly and trying not to let on how worried I was and how much his total confusion made my body ache,

"No, I'm so sorry,"

"Nuh, fuck."

Dean spoke thickly then shut his eyes sluggishly and rolled into my side as I sat and fought the tears back but then carried on stroking him while whispering soothing words out,

"Sssh, I love you, it's alright."

* * *

 **Aww, poor Dean but on the plus side him being concussed hopefully makes for a very sweet and cute next chapter...I'll see you there!**


	3. Handle With Care

**Some confused Dean coming up in this chapter but we also get a bit more of a look into his past. Plus some caring Roman just 'cus, hope you like it!**

 **Mandy, Well look out because the two of them are going to be even cuter in this chapter...or at least I hope they are! Dean is going to need lots of taking care of after having his head smushed *waves fist at Kane***

 **Moxley Gal1, Don't you worry because the big reveal of the engagement is coming up pretty soon so I'll just tease that so I don't ruin the surprise of how and where people find out (but trust me they do!)**

 **Wolfgirl2013, I know, watching that match back he looks so confused at the end like he can't work out what happened. Luckily he's got Lauren there to look after him, because boy he needs it in this one!**

 **Minnie1015, For some reason the chapters where I write matches end up far longer than the others! Plus that match was long as it was. Luckily I fast forwarded until I got to the Dean parts so it was okay!**

 **Ohana1337, I loved Seth and Dean feuding during this period so I knew I had to try and tackle it somehow. Even though I'm happier the Shield are back together (presuming they still are when Dean comes back).**

 **Skovko, Aww, I hope not, 8 months is too long! I'll stick with Seth saying late spring until it's no longer late spring and then I'll concede that maybe it will be summerslam, but until then I shall hope!**

 **LunaticxLass, Yay, glad you're looking forward to concussed Dean because I'll be honest, this might be one of the sweetest chapters that I have ever written, although I'll leave the final judgement up to you!**

 **HannonsPen, Yeah, the girl just cannot stay back but then again, Dean kinda does get himself into some scrapes too and especially now that Seth is prime enemy number one! Still, on the plus side him being hurt means lots of cuteness!**

 **Here comes the aftermath...**

* * *

 **Handle With Care**

Roman helped me get Dean back to our hotel room since my poor battered man was still a bewildered ball of mush and moving like he lacked the strength to even lift his feet up in a way that I have no problem admitting totally freaked me out. I fumbled the key card in the lock and looked back at them,

"He – he's going to get better right?"

Because somewhere in the panicky recesses of my cranium I was beginning to fear that he would never perk up again and that the Dean I had known and loved so very faithfully had been lost to me the second the top of his beautiful head had hit the mat.

Roman snorted gently,

"Baby girl he'll be perfect,"

"Really?"

"Uce here needs to sleep it off is all."

He grunted and then shifted my prone boyfriend a little higher as the fact that he had basically hauled him from the parking lot _and_ had been through a brutal ladder match himself that evening began to tell in a sudden pained wince, which made me fumble the key card more frantically and then curse the man responsible for the fiddly design. Because it had to be a man right?

"Oh come on you stupid thing, get in there already."

Dean bobbed his head up and then blinked in bewilderment into the bright lights of the long hotel hall and much like he couldn't even begin to figure what had happened to him or where in the hell he even was. His blue eyes were glassy and his head seemed so heavy that he was having a hard time simply lifting it up and frankly the sooner I got him into bed safely and let his broken body heal the better the both of us would feel I hoped. He hummed out a croaky little note of confusion,

"Where are we?"

"The hotel uce."

"But I need t' beat Seth, need t' stop him gettin' th' briefcase," Dean began to groggily try and pull himself back but fortunately in that moment I managed to unlock the threshold and then flung the door wide like an enthusiastic realtor showing some happy couple the best thing on the market and looking to make the big reveal on a property that had a central sweeping staircase and an atrium up above. No such luck though, since instead our plain hotel room stared back at us, complete with carpet in a hue of thick maroon and mass produced paintings hung up on the walls crookedly in the hopes that the patrons might mistake them for originals and figure they were staying in a real swanky place.

Roman grunted,

"You can get him tomorrow uce, but right now you gotta sleep babe."

I hurried in ahead and then paved the way for the two of them to follow me by frantically flipping on the little bedside lights and then hovering awkwardly as the biggest man in our acquaintance hauled my fiancé in through the door and then manoeuvred him into place next to the mattress before opening his grip up and finally letting him fall back.

"Oof – ,"

Dean hit the mattress backwards clumsily and then bounced on the springs but otherwise remained in place, blinking his bewildered eyes up at the ceiling and then frowning like he was trying to guess the meaning of life. In response to it I found myself wishing that he was angry because that was the trait I had come to know well and evidently the one that I also found comforting in times of general messiness but had never realized before. Basically I needed my hot fired up man back and Roman knew it too,

"Lauren trust me alright? His ass is going to be fine in the morning."

"But what do I do now?"

I was totally at sea and unsure of whether my instinctive need to look after him was helpful or else potentially the last thing he might need since I figured that big tough macho man wrestlers might have handled concussion in separate ways to everyone else.

Roman smiled at me softly,

"Be there for him, make sure he gets his ass showered and into that bed and then pretend you're listening when his ass starts talking, because believe me he _will_ start talking about crap and not a whole lot of it is gonna make sense either."

I lifted a brow,

"Um, is this you speaking from experience?"

He snorted wryly in response to me,

"Oh yeah."

But if nothing else then at least his chuckle was reassuring since he was basically the only other human being in creation that came close to loving Dean as fiercely as I did and so therefore if _he_ wasn't freaking out and panicking then it must have meant that I didn't have to either I guessed. Blowing a breath out I leaned in towards my boyfriend and then carded my fingers soothingly through his wet hair and his blue eyes floated upwards and then blinked at me a little,

"You're fuckin' hot."

Roman grunted,

"Guess that's my cue to leave."

In normal circumstances I probably would have followed him to the doorway and then given him an over the top hug and thanked him profusely for helping me out with things, except that suddenly Dean seized my hand up possessively and then clung onto it like he was seeing me for quite possibly the first time and wasn't prepared to let me leave him ever and so instead I simply waved my free fingers across the room,

"Thanks for the assist big guy."

Brown eyes smiled,

"You know it."

He pulled the door behind him and left the two of us alone and in the silence I let my eyes slide shut briefly and tried to haul a breath in which promptly stuck in my throat and then made me choke on the thick mix of feelings that I found lodged in place like a big sticky ball,

"Hey – ,"

"Huh?" I blinked in minor bewilderment and then looked across to the man by my side, who was gazing up at me in adorable confusion that was laced with mild worry,

"You're too hot to cry."

"I'm not crying, I'm okay."

"Princess?"

"Uh huh."

He blinked,

"You're my Princess?"

He seemed to be trying to figure it out and in response I shifted myself closer towards him and then laid my head in over his chest, feeling as the hand which was tangled around my fingers tightened instinctively like he would never let go, even though I strongly doubted he knew what was happening or could remember having been planted on his head by a guy. I sighed against his sweaty top wearily ignoring the sweat smells and sense of sogginess up against my cheek and instead trying to suck up every fragment of his fragrance like I would possibly never get another chance at it again and at the same time beginning to trace circles on his forearm which was a move that I knew from experience he loved.

"You're going to be okay," I whispered, "I'll look after you."

"Don't wan' her to frighten you away an' shit."

"Who?"

Dean grunted back at me and then shuffled himself a little, like he was preparing to bed himself in for the night and which briefly threw him off whichever path his head had been on to the point that I began to assume he had forgot.

Evidently not.

"My mom," Dean waved his hand around loosely, "She can be – like – the literal worst sometimes, when she's on the booze or whatever an' she's got this thing where she kinda tends not to like other women. M' not – could never fuckin' figure it out but it's a thing with her an' m' – like – ninety percent certain she'll say some shit to make you sad an' I hate seein' you sad an' – ,"

He tailed off aimlessly and then proceeded to stare intently at a point over my head, but with such total conviction that I actually looked with him only to be greeted by a blank wall.

 _Oh boy_.

Moving myself up I managed to bring back his attentions by pecking him ever so carefully on the lips and then cupping his face between my hands to keep his focus as I thumbed over his cheekbones,

"I'm okay, I'll be fine."

"You still love me right?"

I bit my lip mildly because the topic was one we had broached once before and was something that he seemed to rapidly fall back on whenever he ended up hurt or depressed. Somewhere beneath the bluster and the _lunatic fringe_ stuff was a fear of abandonment that shattered my heart, because I knew how it felt to be alone and miserable and hated with a passion that had he ever experienced that and the fact that somebody had made him feel that way.

I wondered briefly if it had maybe been his mom.

Instead of following that thought further however I instead planted another reassuring kiss down, lengthening it so he hopefully forgot about his troubles and which I could only assume somehow managed to work when something hidden in his pants twitched mildly.

I broke the kiss grinning,

"I love you more than anything in the world and I promise I always will, so you're not getting rid of me."

"Princess – ," Dean murmured before lifting a hand up and then planting it unsubtly right across my breast but then grinning with such a look of cheeky excitement that I couldn't find it in myself to pretend to be mad,

"Hey there handsy."

"So fuckin' beautiful, can't believe you're with me."

"It's worse than that, we're engaged."

Dean blinked up at me in a blue eyed astonishment and then pulled my hand up suddenly towards his face to obviously hunt for the evidence to prove my statement but which required him having to physically examine the whole thing like he thought the proof might be skin colored or hidden or potentially even completely invisible to the naked eye.

"We are?"

"Uh huh,"

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a concealed jewellery pouch before producing the twisted and oh so precious silver ring that made me brighten like a variant form of firefly whenever I saw the beautiful gemstones catch the light and start to bling.

"I picked that right?"

"You sure did mister," I chuckled as I went to put it back on, since there were no longer any long lost relatives prowling around us hoping to make our lives a misery or make a storyline out from our love.

"Whoa – ,"

Dean stopped me and then reached out towards it before taking it carefully into his palm of his and then poking out his tongue in a measure of confusion as he insisted on being the one to slide it back on. My heart skipped a little as his rough hands smoothed over me, because even though his brain was utterly scrambled it was like he was proposing all over again and I laughed as it finally slotted onto my ring finger before bending down to kiss him,

"I accept, again."

Dean grunted back and then grazed my arm lightly but evidently the exertion of the pseudo-proposal had taken little energy he had seemingly had left and as he shut his eyes and let his arm fall back heavily I remembered the advice the big guy had thrown out.

 _Make sure he gets his ass showered and into bed._

Right.

It sounded to me like a sensible plan and particularly since I figured he would hate to wake up later still icky and sweaty and in his uncomfortable wrestling clothes. To that end therefore I leaned over him further and then shunted his battered shoulders,

"Dean?"

"Huh, nuh, wha – ,"

He burst into wakefulness like a bomb had gone off around us or maybe as if the warning claxons had started to blare and so I put my hands up to show there wasn't an emergency and then brushed my fingers with patience through his hair,

"It's okay, everything's fine, but we need to get you showered."

"Shower?"

It was like he had never heard the word before and so in reply I nodded like the confusion wasn't frightening and instead chose to simply try and baby him through.

"Uh huh, we need to get these icky clothes off you, how does that sound?"

Dean grunted wryly,

"Naked."

"Yep, that's the plan."

He hummed at me,

"Dirty girl."

Pretty evidently even when his brain had been extracted, placed in a blender and then poured back into his head, his need for sexy time had remained in situ and oddly I found that a reassuring sign, since it let me know that the rest of him was still there also and merely a little bit battered and mixed up. In return I rolled my eyes and then shuffled myself lower to where I could unbutton his jean fronts and which made him both snort and then draw a sleepy smile.

 _Ugh_.

Even concussed he was too freaking adorable.

Horny and adorable –

But that was okay.

Having unbuttoned them the next part of the procedure was trying to work out how to get his pants fully off since he was lying on his back showing no signs of moving and I would somehow have to get them down over his ass. In the end I resorted to a sort of _peeling_ action but it took a heap of effort and a lot of hard work since at certain points I had to try and sort of roll him over and which he responded to by humming and burying his head into my crotch.

"Fuckin' love you Princess, smellin' all sexy and takin' my clothes off – ,"

I ignored his ramblings and finally managed to rip off the denims with a last almighty haul that propelled me backwards and across the room but also made me throw up my arms in a triumph that I whooped at and which made my poor half-conscious man jump,

"Wha – ,"

"Oops, sorry."

His shirt was the next thing and although I briefly toyed with simply cutting the thing up, I came to the conclusion that using scissors was predatory and I would feel like I had drugged him and was keeping him locked up and which possibly hinted at me having watched too many movies but regardless of that meant more pulling and grunt work.

Five minutes more to be exact.

But in spite of that finally I had him stripped to his boxers and theoretically at least good and ready to be washed. Except for the fact that at some point through the unrobing he had managed to fall readily and fully to sleep, which seemed almost impossible given how much I had poked at him but which his poor battered system evidently needed most. In fact it seemed mean to reach over and wake him, but then again I knew that his sleep would be better if he was warm and comfortable and feeling all fresh and so I grit my teeth and shook him a little while apologizing to him,

"Dean? I'm so sorry, I love you, wake up."

"Huh?"

Blue eyes blinked up at me in total confusion but to his credit he responded to my repeatedly tugging at him by slowly and sluggishly lifting himself up and even if it meant having to brace his weight against me, he still managed to do it and I was grateful for that.

"Come on future husband, let's get you showered."

He peered down at himself in surprise,

"M' not wearin' any clothes."

"Nope."

I kissed him on the forehead and then gently pulled him upright, before burrowing myself in tight beneath his shoulder as he stumbled like a zombie towards the bathroom in tiny steps and at one point nearly hammered us into the cupboards before putting out his hand and steadying himself.

"Fuck."

By the time we made it over the threshold he was actually trembling with the exertion of it all and keen not to waste what little energy was left to him, I flipped on the shower and then whipped his boxers off before guiding him slowly beneath the warm fountain which he barked in surprise at and then sunk back into a with a grunt.

"Is that good?" I murmured, rolling my sleeves up and trying to keep myself out of the stream as I lathered up some of his heavenly smelling body wash and then massaged it in gentle circles over his beaten up and bruised skin.

"Mmmm."

I took his exhalation as an affirmative and then reached over to soap up his sweat thickened hair but then stopped as he groped for my hand a little clumsily before sweetly planting my palm with a kiss that was barely there yet at the same time meant a million and one things that his heavily concussed brain would have struggled to say and I giggled a little in a wave of emotion and whispered through the torrent,

"I love you so much."

It turned out to have been the wrong thing to say to him, or possibly the right thing because I wasn't too sure since his hand then flashed out and hooked me around the waistline before hauling me in towards him.

I reacted too late,

"Dean, no – ,"

I squeaked as the water hit me in a downpour and promptly soaked my clothes straight through to the bone and was still trying to formulate the words to reply to it when he pulled me in closer and then wrapped me up tight, burying his head deep into my sodden hairline and pressing me against him like he could never get enough and with such a deep sense of sudden desperation that it made me melt a little and my body go limp.

Bliss.

"Princess, I won't let her scare you off I promise."

"You – you mean your mom?"

Evidently we had gone back and in response to my question Dean hugged me more fervently and then nodded his coarse stubble up and down my cheek,

"Gonna protect you."

"You always protect me."

"Don' wan' her tellin' you a whole lotta stuff."

"Like what?"

If I was honest then being stood fully clothed in the shower was probably at the bottom of my things-to-do list but it was palatable and even kind of nice all things considered when I was pressed face first into the slickened abs of my man. In fact it was so sort of fascinatingly soothing that I then nearly missed the next part of what he said.

"'Bout my past an' the shit I had to do to make money because she never brought home enough food for us to eat an' 'bout how I used to sell drugs for these couple 'a assholes who would beat me real bad if I tried to turn 'em down."

I blinked against his chest,

"I – you sold drugs?"

I knew he had strong opinions on that kind of stuff and also had a whole lot of background specialist knowledge that most regular people by and large didn't have. It was why he had known how to handle things in a second back when I had been roofied in the club nearly a year ago when Bray Wyatt had been stalking me and trying to get me alone with him.

He nodded,

"Didn't have a fuckin' choice but I hated it, never want you to find that shit out."

 _Um_ –

His open admission seemed to be pretty redundant given that he had flat out told me about it himself but the fact that he thought it would change how I felt about him cut me like a knife and made me rise up onto my toes,

"You know things like that only make me love you _more_ right?"

Blue eyes sparkled beneath the water,

"Does?"

"Uh huh, because you are so incredibly amazing that you beat the odds and got yourself out and because you're my favorite person in existence and I couldn't live without you."

He kissed me then _hard_ and I melted into it like some sort of collapsing soufflé to the point where he briefly even had to hold me up as the combination of his tongue scouting over my lip line and the fast falling water turned the clinch slippery and hot and probably would have maybe tipped things bubbling over had he not then trembled and buckled a little.

"Whoa,"

I pulled back from him and then pecked him on the jawline,

"Whoops, that's enough of that, let's get you into bed."

By the time I had manoeuvred him slowly back out of the shower and towelled him off to a point that he wouldn't stick to the sheets, Dean was practically dead on his feet again and only barely made the stumble across the bedroom before falling face down heavily into the quilt where he actually remained like some ylang-ylang scented corpse as I hurried around the room, stripping myself from my wet clothes clumsily and then scraping back my hair before scuttling over.

"Dean?"

"Mmmm?"

I again rolled him over and was greeted with a groggy but beautiful little smile and then by him hauling his battered body closer and nuzzling himself a little pillow on my lap.

"Are you okay?" I whispered gently, tousling my fingers through the ends of his wet hair,

"Will be."

"Good."

I flipped the covers over him and then continued to smooth his tangle as he drifted off to sleep, praying to the gods, the moon and nearly everything that when the morning rolled around I would have my fiancé back and he would once again be the vengeful, cuss-laden demon that had become my whole world in just ten short months.

"L've y' Princess."

I kissed his brow tenderly and held him a little closer,

"Love you right back."

* * *

 **Always nice to have a little bit of couple time and personally I think that concussed Dean is hella cute!**

 **Next chapter we find out some more about his mother so hopefully I will see you all there!**


	4. Ninety Nine Problems And His Mom Is One

**Little bit more information about the dreaded mother-in-law in this one plus some more Roman because I think we all know that he is awesome!**

 **Mandy, Glad you liked it, I loved writing that last chapter because I can totally see Dean as being one of those big tough guys that turns into a bit of big kid when they're drunk/hurt.. Some more cuteness in this one coming up! Hope all is well with you and your family *hugs***

 **LunaticxLass, Yay, so happy you loved concussed Dean as much as I do, he kind of goes through the emotional wringer in this one especially where his mom is involved. I like writing him vulnerable sometimes though. Even big men have their little insecurities.**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Thank you, got some more cute Dean and Lauren moments coming up and some more nuggets about Mama Ambrose who will be getting to have her turn soon too!**

 **Minnie1015, Concussed Dean is cute, but then there are a lot of Deans to choose from. Comforting Dean, angry Dean, lunatic Dean, sarcastic Dean, sexy time Dean etc. etc. I think for this chapter I'm mixing in a little bit of sarcastic Dean with some comforting Dean too. Enjoy!**

 **ShieldGirlBecky, Yep, going to take more than a murky past to put our girl off her hunky man. But Mama Ambrose might be a bit of a challenge to put it mildly and Dean's hometown isn't exactly going to make it easy on her as well. All of that coming your way soon!**

 **FreakinLunaticsYard, Aww, thank you so much. I'm so pleased that you're so invested, I love writing this couple, it's like putting on a comfy old sweater even if I do make things hard for them at times. Mama Ambrose is going to be fun when she finally pitches up I can promise that!**

 **Ohana1337, Well, I figure I can balance the action chapters with the occasional sickly sweet couply one so that was what that last one was and I'm super glad you liked it because with everything I put them through, I feel like they need it sometimes, especially with the rest of this story!**

 **Labinnacslove, Yep, who wouldn't want a concussed Dean nuzzling in their lap smelling all fresh from the shower?! Besides, I figure if he was ever going to fully let his guard down then it would have to be when he was basically knocked out!**

 **Skovko, He is adorable when he's slightly stupid, or at least in my take he is! Interesting question too, because the whole issue of what he may or may not have said to her comes up in this one but you'll have to read on to see how he/she/they handle it.**

 **AngelsDestiny22, Yep, Lauren and Dean are never gone for too long! Glad you're happy to have them back. Good news on the engagement front too because people are going to find out in a couple of chapters time and there will be drama!**

 **Time for the next morning...**

* * *

 **Ninety Nine Problems And His Mom Is One**

Being as how my own unhappy brush with concussion had taken me a good two weeks to put right, I had braced myself for Dean to be sluggish and bewildered for what I assumed would be a good long while, so was therefore both over the moon and astonished when he woke me the next morning like nothing had been wrong and with a plate of pastries he had ordered from room service figuring that I would probably want breakfast where I was.

His lips had grazed my cheek half-buried in the covers,

"Rise and shine baby."

I had blinked at him,

"D-Dean?"

"Who else would it be? You been steppin' out on me?"

In an instant he had been unmistakably _him_ and I had surged from the sheets and thrown my arms hard around him with an actual unhidden sob of relief.

"Oh thank god, you're okay."

"I'm always okay."

But he had brought his arms up and returned the hug anyway, smoothing his rough palm over my hairline as I had trembled against his chest and even cried a little bit.

"I thought – I thought – ,"

"Gonna take more 'n that to break me, tombstone piledriver huh? That big crafty fuck."

Evidently at some point while I had been sleeping, he had been up and busy watching the match back, since I figured he probably couldn't remember too much of it or possibly _any_ of it which would have in no way been a surprise. My suspicions had been confirmed when he had tucked his fingers beneath my jawline and then lifted my head up with a look of concern,

"I saw him knock you over, he hurt you?"

"No, I'm okay."

"You sure about that Princess?"

I had nuzzled in close again and then blown myself a long breath of relief out as I had rubbed my face in over his shirt and revelled in the feeling of his arms firm around me and present and totally back in control,

"Uh huh, I'm sure."

Dean hadn't seemed too convinced by my answer but he had at least let it go before the pastries had gone cold and by the time I had munched my way through one – okay _two_ – of them, I had been brighter and happier and feeling more myself again, but still pumped up with enough protective instinct that I wasn't prepared to let him out of my sight and which was therefore the reason that I looked up in a panic as he changed into his sweat pants and grabbed up the key card,

"Wait, where – where are you going?"

"Down to the gym in the basement,"

"Wait, I'll come too," I scrambled up with purpose from the covers but managed to get them caught round my leg then very nearly face planted into the carpet before stumbling free and crashing into his chest.

Dean raised a knowing brow and then gently swept my hair back,

"I'm fine, I fuckin' promise."

"I know, I – um – want to work out."

"You?"

"Uh huh, I had two pastries remember?"

I patted my belly to make the point clear and my fiancé rolled his eyes but then snorted a little before pressing me towards the bathroom,

"You got five minutes to get changed."

I knew from experience that he probably wasn't kidding and so scuttled straight past him to get myself freshened up and to splash some water over my features before finishing off with a burst of underarm spritz. Frankly I thought I was moving pretty speedily and so smirked at my fiancé as I hustled back into the room and hauled my workout pants out of my suitcase,

"How long now?"

"Forty seconds Princess."

Damn.

I hopped on one foot as I struggled into my leggings, trying my best to glare across the room,

"You know I think I might prefer you being broken because you're way less grumpy and bossy to me. Honestly you were saying the sweetest things ever last night and being all cuddly. Do you have Kane's number anywhere?"

In my own crazy way I was trying to be humorous and for the most part my fiancé tended to get my bad puns, but for whatever reason that _particular_ chirpy zinger launched across the room and then fell pretty flat as instead his brows knitted in like they were wary and his blue eyes flashed,

"What did I say?"

"Huh?"

I was halfway through trying to pull on my sports top when he fired out the question and so managed to miss the words and in response to it he threw a look up to the heavens, then crossed the room towards me to help untangle my twisted straps.

"What sort of shit was I sayin' to you last night?"

"You mean you can't remember?"

"Not as much as I would like."

In a flash I got why he was suddenly frowning and why his earlier happy mood had tapered off because evidently he was worried he had let loose something terrible or revealed some grim secret he had planned on taking to the grave and I shrugged in reply in an attempt to sound casual,

"Um, I'm not sure, but you – uh – you touched my boob."

Dean wasn't buying it,

"Princess."

 _Ugh_.

Here goes nothing.

"You mentioned you sometimes were – um – kinda forced to sell drugs but that you totally hated every second of doing it and it's okay because I believe you and I'm not going anywhere okay?"

My explanation came out as a hasty little gabble because I was frantic to let him know that it hadn't changed a thing and that my reverence for him was as solid as ever which I underlined by stepping closer and then pressing up a kiss. It landed on his jaw bone alongside his hidden dimples and then was joined by a second longer pucker as well as I tried to pepper him out of his reverie but ended up nowhere.

"Dean, please talk to me."

Instead he blinked back for several seconds and then heaved a weary sigh out and began to scratch his neck before shrugging his shoulders way to loosely,

"Guess mom would have told you anyway."

"You said that part too."

"Was there anythin' else?"

"Nope but even if there _had_ been it wouldn't have mattered, not to me."

I physically pulled his arms up and around me to emphasize the point that I loved him no matter what and was rewarded when he responded by hauling me in close to him and then laying his cheek across the top of my head,

"Don't deserve you."

"You never will either, remember that."

Luckily on the second time my bad humor triumphed since my fiancé snorted roughly then patted my butt, before turning me briskly in the direction of the corridor and pushing me forwards,

"Come on baby, gym."

For the most part the hotels that we tended to stay at were simple little places without any thrills, so therefore having a full workout room in the basement turned a humble establishment into a palace in a flash and was particularly true of the gym we walked into which had brand new equipment and punch bags and everything else and also included a bright eyed Roman who greeted us with a nod,

"See, I told you he'd be fine."

Dean snorted back,

"You two been talkin' about me?"

"Only about that extra hard head of yours uce."

Briefly I wondered if he too had compiled his knowledge of Dean's crummy childhood from bewildered fragments he had heard, but pushed that thought back as I turned towards the treadmills and let them get on with their weight lifting and squats. Had Seth been there he would have had us all lunging and crossfitting like idiots until we had collapsed in a heap at which point he had always barked in confusion and then launched into a lecture on our general health.

In the moment I really stupidly missed him.

Him –

Not the exercise.

I hadn't been missing that _at all_.

But what I had missed was the way he had rolled his eyes at me whenever I had said something truly Lauren style and then tried to fight the ghost of a smile back and pretend he was frustrated rather than give into it and laugh. I missed the way he had always been so antsy and had been the frenzied engine that had spurred on his team and most of all I missed how much he had loved us and had moved mountains for us all and a million other things.

Ugh.

In response to a sudden twinge of emotion that I wasn't keen to let out all over the gym floor, I turned the treadmill up a little higher and then started to pound out a couple of miles. In general terms running had never been my strong suit and many times my style had been mocked by the boys, who had likened my technique to an uncoordinated ostrich, but which they had slowly grown used to throughout the many months. Besides which I knew that exercise was helpful when it came to working stress or pent-up tension out and given the last few weeks _oh_ _boy_ I needed it and so I kept on going ignoring the looks.

Mom.

Her face popped into my head so suddenly that it made me seize up and nearly lose my step –

"Crap."

Dean looked up from the punching bag,

"Princess?"

"I'm okay."

"You sure 'bout that clumsy?"

"Uh huh."

I wasn't exactly lying to him on that point, because in the physical sense at least I was better than I had ever been, but on the mental side though it was a little more sketchy and with very good reason.

Huge reason in fact.

In three weeks' time it would be the one year anniversary since my mom had finally slipped away from the world and the knowledge of that managed to both sadden and startle me because it felt like it hadn't been that long in the least, but at the same time it _also_ felt like it had been forever and I honestly couldn't fathom how to marry those two things up.

How could so much have happened since she had left me?

How was it possible to still miss her so much?

Deep inside I guess I had secretly been hoping that meeting my future in-law would help to bridge that maternal gap and that maybe in being allowed to meet Mama Ambrose I would fall into the arms of a second mother figure to show me love. Evidently not though. Dean had made that patently obvious and so instead I was suddenly staring along the barrel of more strife and a very unhappy family reunion that was already turning my man half crazy when he hadn't so much as trampled the borders of his hometown. I blew out a sigh and then glanced back towards the readouts before blinking in surprise –

Huh?

I had covered nearly five miles and in my world at least that qualified me for a breather or perhaps a brief nap or a big slice of cake and so I turned off the treadmill and then wobbled towards the comfort of the basement's trusty vending machine, where I promptly pressed the button for a full fat hot chocolate which was lessened in terms of pleasure by having no mini marshmallows.

Damn.

Dean was already smirking at me a little as my cheeky hot beverage was all poured out and by the time I had tottered a path back towards him, it had turned into a grin and then a chuckle as well, like he couldn't believe the levels of my crazy but which was pretty ironic coming from him.

"Princess – ,"

"What?"

"Is that a fuckin' hot chocolate?"

Roman too had stopped his workout and was snorting at me fondly from above a pair of dumbbells that probably weighed as much as a European car. Dean had at some point taken his shirt off and I lost myself briefly in the lines of his chest and the golden tones and the low dip of his hip bones and therefore replied in a bashful splutter like a kid,

"Um, yep."

"Didn't you just get through with runnin'?"

"Why do you think I'm even drinking this?" I took a coy sip and then responded further by sticking my tongue out and in a cheeky little movement that made my fiancé step in close and then press his mildly sticky abs up against me as he nuzzled his nose alongside my earlobe and smoothed his broad hands to a point low on my back.

"Princess, what am I ever gonna do with you huh?"

"Anything you want," I purred back suggestively and he puffed a needy breath out then grazed his lips over my cheek in a sweet little kiss that made me flood with instant happiness.

"You goin' back up to the room baby?"

"Uh huh,"

"In that case maybe we could shower together?"

I totally liked the sound of that and especially since our haphazard cubicle sharing incident the night prior had by no means been the sexy kind I tended to want and besides which we still had a good two and a half hours before we were supposed to be at the arena for the show. I bit my bottom lip in the way that sent him crazy and then trailed my finger down his abs,

"See you in five?"

He slapped my rump playfully,

"I'll be right behind you."

I squeaked but then couldn't really move fast enough, because the thought of some longed for heavy petting with my fiancé was the best way I knew of to let it all out and pretend that I wasn't badly grieving for my mother or worrying about his own apparently wasted mom, not to mention the rumbling concussion he was still nursing and which had to be pounding like a band inside his skull.

I waved at Roman,

"See you later big guy."

He snorted in amusement but then followed me along, rubbing a sweaty towel over his face as he blew a breath out and taking long gulps from a bottle of water which totally put my hot chocolate to shame.

"Nah, think I'm gonna call it quits for now."

"Pussy," Dean bellowed out loudly across the room, making the few other patrons on the treadmills look up in both surprise and raw censure as well, but which my fiancé was either straight up unaware of or else chose to ignore.

Probably the second one I felt.

Roman chuckled but then hit the elevator button and I skittered in beside him as the metal gates banged shut and plunged us into a comfortable silence that I suddenly realized had another upshot. Ever since Dean had murmured brokenly about his mother and the myriad fears he'd had about her, I had been trying to wrap my head around her character and what I was potentially about to let myself in for. It was my best friend Kelly who had suggested asking Roman, since she figured that he likely had the best impartial insight and so since then I had been waiting until the two of us were together which had actually turned out to be surprisingly hard.

I sucked a long breath in,

"Have you ever met Dean's mother?"

He blinked a little but to his absolute credit otherwise showed no outward signs of alarm, even though I could tell he was thinking about his answer, likely knowing that other questions would follow on from my first.

"Couple of times now."

"What do you make of her?"

"Is there a reason you're asking?"

"Dean kinda thinks I should meet her that's all."

I winced a very mildly as I put the words out there, in case he thought it was a horrible idea or in case or he said something that made me more fearful, but instead his big broad face lit up and he positively beamed across the distance towards me looking as pleased as proverbial punch,

"Damn baby girl, I never thought I'd see it."

"What?"

"Uce finally manning up and taking a girl home, his ass was always adamant about that never happening, but then you showed up and clawed your way into his heart. I'm happy for him, I'm happy for both of you."

He put out an arm and then offered up a sideways hug, which I honestly had very little choice but to fold into and then giggle at happily as he briefly squeezed me tight. Roman hugs were pretty much always perfect because the guy was so freaking big and so therefore a quick cuddle from him felt like being wrapped up in an extra thick comfort blanket that could block out the sun. Not that his being loveable had answered my first question and so once he had freed me from the warmth of the tight embracing I found my feet and tried again,

"So what is she like?"

"She's messed up a little."

"She _is_ messed up or she _has_ messed up?"

Because there was totally a distinction between those two sentences and as the elevator shuddered to halt Roman paused briefly like he was giving it real thought.

"Both as far as I can figure out mostly, I think you know already she wasn't the best mom, I mean uce practically raised himself for the most part but I think she tried in her own kinda way. Problem is she hit the booze pretty hard back then and hasn't been able to give it up since. Think there were some shitty boyfriend types along the way too who made things a lot more difficult for our boy."

I bit my lip,

"I hate that he went through that."

"You and me both baby girl, you and me both."

In front of us the big steel barriers slid open and we stepped out back onto badly patterned weave, that I had learned the hard way was a staple of hotel hallways and was presumably because shapes nicely camouflaged the stains. For the most part the places we stayed in were comfortable but not pricey and so therefore was also favored by everyone else, including bachelor parties and twenty first birthday blows outs and so was therefore probably frequently covered in piles of sick.

 _Ewww_.

I honestly wished I hadn't thought about that too hard and so wrinkled my nose and tried to brush the thought off which I managed to do as we turned up the corridor since I still had some things that I needed to ask.

"Um – ,"

"Keep 'em coming baby girl."

I grinned wryly and then rolled my eyes a little,

"Dean was talking about needing to protect me, he said he was scared his mom would try and scare me off him or say something terrible or upset me or worse."

Roman shrugged,

"She kinda says stuff when she's drunk,"

"What sort of stuff?"

I honestly felt like I needed to know because at least maybe then I could mentally prepare myself for the kind of mean path down which she was likely to go and perhaps build myself up some barriers for it or potentially some really kick ass throwaway quips but which probably wouldn't have worked in any real sense since I was patently not a _clever comebacks_ sort of girl.

Roman winked at me,

"You'll be fine, nothing to worry about but you know how moms are letting go of their sons."

"Speaking from experience?"

I grinned at him teasingly and he blew a long breath out and shook his broad head, like he was having a hideous flashback or something but which also made him snort,

"Mine was the _worst_ , so whatever his mom throws at you, I pretty much promise it's gonna be a whole lot better than that."

"What if it's a tire iron though?"

Roman laughed at me,

"Well that's why uce is there to protect you I guess."

He stopped by the door to my room and I hummed at him and then shrugged my shoulders because like usual he was right and so therefore as long as my fiancé was with me and protecting me from the barbs then I was going to be fine. I mean, in the past eleven months I had been with him, I had been kidnapped twice, held hostage and been molested and that was only a small part of what had flared up and so frankly my being terrified of his mother was one of the more ridiculous things I had dreamed up and even if she _was_ a drunken nightmare who hated me –

 _Um_.

Nope, I still had no clue how to cope with that.

Inserting the key card into the mechanism I threw the big man a cheery little wink and then furnished it further with the best smile in my retinue to show that I appreciated both his total honesty and his love.

"Thanks big guy, you're right, it will go perfectly."

He nodded back,

"But watch out for that right hook of hers."

"What?"

But by the time I had backtracked out into the hallway with a look of alarm that matched my loud internal ringing bells, he was already too far away to fully hear me and possibly chuckling at what I hoped was his brand of teasing but was by no means completely sure about.

I blew out a groan.

"Damn."

* * *

 **So, Dean's mother sounds lovely huh? Bet we can't wait to meet her. Next chapter, Lauren takes cares of Dean in her own special way...plus there's some Kelly thrown in there too!**


	5. Role Playing

**Time we reward Lauren for being such a good fiancé and also time that Dean gets seen by a medical professional...sort of…**

 **LunaticxLass, Kelly is the best and she's so much fun to write too. Everyone needs a hard swearing, kick ass best friend. Can't wait for you all to meet Dean's mom either but we've still got some wrestling drama to go before we get there and then what happens in this one too!**

 **Mandy, Roman said 'hi' to you? Ooh you lucky thing! I totally love portraying him as the wise and laid-back perfect older brother type. Who wouldn't want a big brother Roman in their life?! My mum is doing as well as can be expected I guess, a slow but steady recovery.**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Thank you, a little bit of loving in this chapter (because they deserve it) then lots of drama and chaos in the next one!**

 **Labinnacslove, Well, I have to give them some happy times occasionally. Good to have Roman in the mix too because sometimes our two crazy kids needs to have a voice of reason! I'm even nicer to Dean and Lauren in this chapter too *wink wink***

 **Ohana1337, Awww, late night reading is the best (especially with a sneaky hot chocolate I find!) Roman and Lauren are fun to write and I feel that they have an even closer bond now that they are Dean's only people. They needs to look after their boy!**

 **Minnie1015, Big old family hug! I have to say I kind of miss Seth chirping at them, but then I have the AUs for that and also Seth might not be so totally lost to them… Happy to bring shirtless Dean back too as many times as you want as describing that is never a hardship!**

 **Skovko, Thanks for the title love, I was worried to wouldn't fit in the box. This title is much shorter! Dean's mother is just such an unknown quantity though! Plus Lauren needs to build a lifelong relationship with her (or try to) so the pressure is on!**

 **ShieldGirlBecky, I agree that having Seth taken out of the equation (sort of) means that Roman gets more story time to himself and I'm loving having the big guy coming more to the front in this one. Roman and Kelly are officially the best best friends ever!**

 **Here comes Kelly then...**

* * *

 **Role Playing**

"Sweetie, I'm pretty sure you have nothing to worry about," Kelly snorted at me from over the phone and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes at me as I sprawled across the hotel bed lying flat out on my front,

"Why not?"

"Because honey, everybody loves you, I mean I'm pretty sure my own mom loves you more than she loves me, in fact the last week she called me _Lauren_ three times in one morning – ,"

I laughed at her sarcastically,

"No she did not."

"I'm not even kidding."

"Awww, your mom loves me."

From over the line my best friend issued a grunt and then let out a sudden sharp hiss of agony and a long string of expletives that I could only hope weren't aimed at me.

"Fucker, shit, fuck – ,"

"Um, Kel?"

"My child bit me."

"Do I want to know where?"

"Well I'm breastfeeding so take a guess, I swear this kid has it in for my nipples."

I winced and then rolled over onto my back before using my free hand to cup each of my own girls like having to simply hear about it might make them fall off or else shrivel up into my ribcage and hibernate for a while which I knew for a fact that my boyfriend wouldn't like.

Fiancé.

"Ugh – ," I groaned in frustration and there was a pause on the phone,

"Laurie honey are you breastfeeding too? Because if you are you need to fill me in here, unless its Dean in which case you can leave the specifics out."

I snorted in amusement then shuddered at the ickiness of the thought of him suckling milk from my teats, because some things would never make the pages of my _sexy notebook_ and baby play was pretty much at the top of that list besides necrophilia, bestiality and threesomes. I bit back a gag then cleared those thoughts from my head.

"I keep forgetting to call him my fiancé."

"So why is that a problem?"

"Um, because that's what he is."

It seemed a pretty simplistic dilemma so I couldn't really figure where my friend had gotten lost and in return she sighed with an air of long suffering and then gave me the equivalent of a big verbal shrug,

"Okay but I mean it's hardly surprising since you guys have this thing about not telling anyone."

"We can't though," I replied,

"Because of Stephanie and Hunter?"

It had been months since we had referred to the latter as my old man because he had thrown that privilege out of the window when he had sided with the guy who had tried to pin me down and had then made the choice to hound my fiancé like Dean was somehow responsible for our rift and had frankly begun to act like a megalomaniac instead of the man who had helped to give me life.

"Yep, because of them."

"Well then all the more reason to make things work out with your new mother-in-law then."

"But what if she hits me?"

"Why would she hit you?"

It was possible I had forgotten to mention that part and so therefore I couldn't really blame the bewilderment blowing back in waves at me over the phone. I still had one hand over my breasts protectively but tightened it a little as my best friend cursed again and then ploughed on like maybe blathering inanely would help to take her mind off the teeth-on-nipple pain.

"Roman said to watch out for her right hook."

Kelly barked at me,

"Well that sounds fun."

"No it doesn't it sounds horrific."

I pouted in response like an overgrown child because I honestly wasn't sure how to respond to a person who refused to like me like I was worried his mom would. People always liked me, it was my special super power and in my twenty seven years it had never failed me once. I mean even those people that I _wanted_ to hate me had pretty much merrily shown their interest anyhow and that list of notables included Bray Wyatt and the much loathed and bastardy Randy Orton as well. In short I had no clue how to be hated or about being punched by an alcoholic mom.

Kelly read my mind,

"Sweetie she won't hit you, Dean won't let her fist come within a mile, I mean for god sakes he practically throws a full on bitch fit if you so much as accidentally break a nail, you really think he would let his mess of a mother hurt you?"

I blew out a breath feeling idiotic,

"No."

"Well there you go then, besides, you should be happy."

I frowned,

"Because my fiancé has an alcoholic mom?"

" _Because_ you two are in the first flushes of romance and still meeting families and finding information out and stuff instead of being stuck at home with a baby and so tired that you don't have the energy left for sex."

I gaped,

"No way."

My best friend was sexually insatiable and it was a fact that anyone within a ten mile radius knew. From pretty much the second our teenage bodies had developed Kelly had been off putting her curves to good use while I had still being trying to work push-up bras out and attempting not to giggle when a boy caught my eye. For her to therefore be too tired for sexy time was basically like her telling me she had a wasting disease and I genuinely felt a little bit panicked or like the mole people had stolen my best friend away.

"Way," Kelly grumbled, "Last night we tried role playing to see if it would put the spice back in and Brent fell asleep when he was pretending to clean my pipes out."

"Um, is that a euphemism?"

"He was being a plumber."

"Oh."

"So seriously sweetie," Kelly continued, "Don't sell this whole meeting-the-parent thing short."

Behind me the threshold to our room clicked open and I looked up with a giddy smile as my fiancé trampled in, looking beautifully ruffle-haired and a little bit sticky in a way which made particular parts of me begin to buzz and which was possibly further inspired by Kelly and her incessant nipple patter and the role playing stuff.

Role playing –

Hmmmm.

Dean and I had never actually tried that and suddenly I was keen to make up for that oversight and actually had to bite on my lower lip a little to stop from giggling in excitement at the thought.

"Laurie?"

"I'm here."

Dean briefly looked over and then blinked in confusion at me lying on the bed at which point I remembered I was still clamping my breasts firmly like someone had attempted to whip them off and so blushing a little I moved my arm away from them and then tried to sound casual,

"Fiancé's back, better go."

"Look at you," Kelly chuckled, "You didn't call him your boyfriend."

"Good luck with your nipples."

Dean lifted a brow and still had it raised by the time I hung the call up since he was totally baffled by the topic of our chat and evidently who I had even been talking to as he then made pretty clear,

"I'm guessin' that wasn't room service then?"

"Nope."

"Pity I've been meanin' to order some more nipples, you can never have too many of 'em you know."

"Uh huh."

He was standing shrugging off his newly reclaimed muscle shirt and once again I held my breath as his body fell into view because even after nearly an entire year of seeing it his golden chest and rippling outline would never _not_ get me hot. I let my eyes track over him greedily like some sort of poor refugee starved of his love and then lowered my gaze to the band of his sweat pants hung recklessly low on the curve of his hips and following the groove of his abdomen made my chest hitch in a bubble of sheer happiness I couldn't contain. Dean snapped his watch off absently,

"We still showerin'?"

"Not yet."

Because I had a better idea and so scrambled off the bed with a sudden need to get started that took him by surprise with a curious blue eyed blink.

"Princess, what's goin' on inside that pretty head 'a yours?"

I crossed the room towards him and put my finger to his lips, leaning in against him yet not letting myself get closer because I was itching to kiss him but knew it would probably kill the game and also the kinky little character I was building and trying to inhabit.

"Shush, you're supposed to be in bed."

"I'm what now?"

I pulled him by one arm across the bedroom and then turned him around before suddenly pushing him back and he cursed as his legs hit the edge of the mattress and sent his unbalanced body into a heavy sit on the bed.

"Oof – the fuck?"

"Do you want me to take your temperature now?"

It turned out that my man tuned into things pretty well, because the next thing I knew he was beaming back up at me and even chuckling a little like he couldn't believe his luck or quite possibly he couldn't believe his crazy life partner or more than likely on that front a mixture of both.

"Is this you givin' _role playin'_ a shot here because I gotta say Princess that's pretty fuckin' hot."

I lost character briefly,

"I'm being a nurse."

"I figured."

He was lying on his back looking up at me with a teasing expression but it also looked happy and borderline hungry too and that spurred me on to clamber up onto the mattress so that was I straddling him but which then very nearly went wrong when I leaned in too far and so fell in on top of him and pushed the wind out which made him cough and grunt a little,

"Oops."

"Princess – ,"

But luckily I wasn't put off by the set back because instead I simply cupped his ridiculously handsome face and then leaned myself forwards ghosting a whisper across his forehead,

"I'm checking your temperature remember?"

I kissed his skin and then held my lips to his mildly clammy hairline revelling in the scent of workout perfume which I possibly should have been wrinkling my nose at but was actually sexy when it belonged to my man and so I inhaled it deeply as he mumbled a little.

"How am I doin'?"

"You're hot, you're _so_ hot."

"Is that your professional opinion?"

"Uh huh."

Beaming at me wickedly he reached up and hooked my shoulders which he then used to shuffle my position back down so that the two of us were lying face to face with me on top of him so he could look into my eyes instead of at my chin.

"You are fuckin' crazy you know that?"

I blinked at him,

"Um – ,"

"Don't ever fuckin' change."

Before I could grin or otherwise at his sentiments he tipped his head up and caught me in a sudden burning kiss, paying me back for the surprise role playing and including a cheeky little tongue slip to help which instantly traced a warm wet path along my lip line, glossing side to side and making me feel hot in a way that was totally and irresistibly beautiful and left me utterly breathless when he finally stopped.

"You know there's a better way to check my temperature don't you?"

I blinked back at him feeling dazed and utterly loved,

"Huh?"

"Gotta put it under your tongue to get a good readin'."

I rolled my eyes in long suffering,

"How romantic."

"But – but I'm all sick here, look."

He coughed pathetically into his knuckles in what was obviously his own attempt at becoming a character in our kinky little show but which was mostly simply him peering up at me in hopefulness and such a happy beam that his dimples appeared. Poking the tip of my pinky into one of them I hummed at him resentfully and furrowed my brow,

"These have to go because they're too cute to be legal."

"What do?"

"Your dimples."

"I have dimples?"

"You didn't know?"

For a second I thought that he had to be kidding me because how could he have managed to live for basically three decades and never have found out about his cutest feature before? Well, one of the his many myriad cute features but ones that were pretty near to the top of that list. Instead however he pulled a face and then shrugged his shoulders so that they scratched at the bed linen and briefly rumpled up the sheets.

"Never really look at myself when I'm smilin'."

"Well then you should because you're _stupidly_ adorable and your dimples make me seriously want to eat you with a spoon."

Blue eyes sparkled,

"I kinda like the sound of that."

I suddenly remembered I had been working my way down and so shuffled a little until I was hunkered across his kneecaps and with a pretty perfect view of his beautifully prone form. His grey pants were patchy with sweat in certain places and the waistband was moist as I teased my finger beneath the brim but the whole sensation only added to my flutterings and so I continued my kinky nurse character with a poorly held back grin,

"Hmmm, I think we should probably check your pulse now because at this stage it's important to make sure you don't too excited and stuff since that's known to put additional pressure on the heart muscles."

"That so huh?"

I nodded back,

"Uh huh."

Luckily crazily large parts of my teen years had been spent swooning over various physicians on ER and so therefore I could at least talk up a good assessment and hopefully even put on the moves to match. Running my hand in over his crotch area I cupped him through the material of his pants then shook my head,

"Uh oh, looks like someone is too excited."

I wasn't even kidding about that since there was a tell-tale bulge beginning to harden and to help that process further I massaged it with my palm, rubbing the heel of my hand slowly up it in a leisurely little movement that made him moan and then reach out, hooking his forefinger in the balcony of my sports top and then using the motion to pull me in towards his mouth. I met him enthusiastically in a fully lips-parted smacker and then giggled as the finger that had pulled me in close again burrowed in deeper until it was squeezed between my breasts like some sort of bear hunkering in for the winter but tickling me too until I laughed across our kiss.

"Princess, you fuckin' complete me you know that?"

"You're a horrible patient, do you know _that_?"

But the clash of our lips was so wet and irresistible that I toppled in again until I was stretched over his abs and which not only brought me in close to his features but meant that I could start to slowly rub up and down with my hips in a grinding action that made me feel like a teenager but one who knew what she was doing for once. Dean cupped my ass and then squeezed a cheek firmly before using his palm to help me rock against his bulge as I began to set up a fast little rhythm that worked pretty well at getting results.

"Fuck."

"Your patient notes say – ," I paused, "Um, I'm running out of health puns."

Dean shook his head,

"Don't need 'em anymore, Princess I'm gonna – ,"

He sounded completely breathless which was fortunate for me because increasingly so was I as the back and forth rubbing and the rising sensation between my hip bones conspired to burn calories like the treadmill never had and although I strongly doubted the teenage dry humping would send me over, the slow build towards it felt heady nonetheless. Dean reached up and ploughed his fingers through my hair suddenly before cupping my whole head to bring it in for another kiss and was still trying to tangle up my tongue like a hook-a-duck when he grunted bodily and then spasmed a little bit. He also swore blissfully beneath the tremors.

"Oh fuck."

I waited a second for him to ride out the ecstasy and then propped myself back up onto my hands, hanging in over him and grinning like an idiot as I took in his post-high grogginess,

"Good news, you're all cured."

Dean snorted at me,

"I love this fuckin' hospital – like – gimme one of those comment cards because this place is gettin' full marks and _yes_ I would totally recommend you to friends and family."

I swatted him,

"Hey."

"Okay, too weird, only to friends."

Blowing out a sigh of sudden happy weariness, I pillowed myself in close to his chest and then hummed as I felt his arms wind tight around me like he was trying to press me in through his flesh or possibly absorb me through some form of osmosis or like some body-swap alien which would have been kind of weird but on the plus side allowed me to give thanks for the reality that he was totally back to normal and not brain damaged or too hurt. It had certainly been touch and go on that front twelve hours earlier and remembering it made me mumble.

"I'm so glad you're okay now."

He kissed my crown,

"M' sorry I scared you baby, but trust me, gettin' pressed into the crotch of a big red monster and planted on my head wasn't how I saw shit goin' down, like, that big asshole came outta _nowhere_ – ,"

"I was worried that I wouldn't get my wedding after all."

Dean blew a huff out that teasingly ruffled at my features,

"Nah, pretty sure that's still goin' on, 'cos if it isn't then I wasted – like – four months worth of wages on that sparkly bit of metal wrapped round your finger there."

I gaped at him,

"Four?"

He had never mentioned the expense of the ring to me probably because it would have taken the romance out, or possibly since he knew that I would more than likely have panicked about him having spent so much of his hard earned cash on me and sure enough on that front he was prove right completely by me looking at him wide-eyed and pretty overwhelmed. He lifted his head to kiss me sweetly,

"Worth every cent of it baby believe me, besides, I figure it's like a long-term investment thing."

"Um, me or the ring?"

" _You_ y' moron."

"Oh, that's good then."

I began to absently stroke his chest, running the tip of my finger across the outlines and prodding at his muscles like I couldn't believe they were real and essentially settling myself into the moment like I was planning to stay there for the next thousand years, spread like a throw rug over my boyfriend –

Damn it.

"Dean?"

"Mmhmm."

"When can we tell people we're engaged? Because I keep doing this thing where I forget to call you my fiancé and it's driving me crazy having to keep it all in."

He grunted a little and then shuffled himself upright and I slid from his abs with a hurt sounding puff because his shifting forced me to also sit back up again which was ten times less comfortable and reassuring than his chest and because I had wanted to stay snuggled for way longer although we probably should have trying to get ready for the show.

Dean pecked my forehead,

"Not like I fuckin' planned this, but I figure the longer we can keep this hidden then good, not give that family a' yours ammunition or a reason to come after you, need to keep my baby safe."

He stood up suddenly and pulled me up with him and I stumbled to my feet in an awkward little move, but then barely had the time to regain my balance before he squatted low in front of me and tipped me in over his back so that my whole upper body was hanging over his shoulders and the unexpectedness of which made me let out a squeal,

" _Dean_ – ,"

"New role play," he grinned as he turned us towards the bathroom and then carried me still protesting like some sex starved caveman. I prodded his kidneys in protest,

"What role play?"

Dean beamed in reply to me and although I couldn't see it since I was upside down and staring at his beautifully smooth back, I could hear it in his tones of borderline laughter and it gladdened my heart,

"It's a special kinda one, where I'm gonna pretend to be a grizzled old wrestler with a fuckin' way too perfect for my ass fiancée who sits up with me all night and strokes my hair back when I've been pummelled and helps me shower and then listens to me when I talk crap an' generally makes my life worth livin' so probably deserves a little bit of her own special love – ,"

I bit my lip and then held back a giggle which bubbled out regardless,

"Oh."

I liked the sound of that.

* * *

 **Next chapter we're back to the ring again and good news (or bad news) Seth is back! Plus Lauren may end up saying a little too much...**


	6. The Beat Goes On

**Seth is back in this one then and being his fantastically weaselly heel self! Can I also say at this point how fun it is inserting Lauren into this storyline? Hope you agree too!**

 **Mandy, Oooh, not surprised you fangirled, I get to meet some celebrities at work sometimes but if it was one of the Shield boys I know I would freak! Yep, Seth is back to his usual annoying self in this one, I had so much fun writing the bickering so I hope you like it!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Yep, he's back and being totally smug and arrogant like he does better than anyone! Lauren is happy to go toe to toe with him here though. Hope you enjoy!**

 **ShieldGirlBecky, Well good news because here is Seth and even though he and Lauren are not friends anymore, the other good news is that their spiky relationship is still intact. Poor old JBL is going to be caught in the middle here but then he deserves it!**

 **Ohana1337, Haha, don't worry, I'm late night (early morning actually) writing so I know the vibe! Love me some Lauren and Dean fluff but I also love the drama so that's what you are getting and then some in this chapter and the next one too...then fluff will be resumed!**

 **Minnie1015, I know, two shirtless scenes in two chapters. Aren't I good to you (and also myself by proxy...okay, maybe mostly to myself because naturally I have to look at pictures to make sure I'm describing it right and then imagine it too...sorry, what were we talking about?)**

 **Skovko, Oh my, can you imagine Lauren in a sex shop? She would probably accidentally knock everything off the shelves or maybe something would fall into her purse and she would be arrested for trying to shoplift something weird! *Writes down idea for new short story***

 **LunaticxLass, Well, Dean might not be the best behaved patient but he's certainly the cutest and I think we can all agree on that. Glad you liked them having some time together, but now we're back into the action again and being joined by our little two-toned turncoat. Enjoy!**

 **Like the chapter title says then...**

* * *

 **The Beat Goes On**

In life there were probably a million and one things that I hated with a passion and hoped I never had to do and the list of which included hang-gliding and holding a tarantula but were both topped off by having to be in close quarters with Seth. Fortunately however the first two things I was still safe on because nobody had sprung either one of those things on me backstage, but on the latter my luck seemed to run out pretty rapidly as I realized the next night as his entrance music blared out.

I groaned into the microphone in front of me,

"What does _he_ want?"

Because honestly I figured it was a reasonable enough request since the main event for the evening had _not_ in any way included him and so therefore he had no reason to be out there, lording it up or parading his stupid his briefcase and he had certainly had no right to be –

Heading our way.

"Ugh."

My head lowered promptly to thump on the announce desk as an extra chair suddenly materialized by my side and looking up again towards my smirking former brother confirmed my worst fears that he was joining us for the final fight. I grumbled and then swatted JBL hurriedly in a way that made him blink at me in total bewilderment,

"Move."

"Huh?"

He couldn't have been any less understanding than if I had said the word in a peal of whistles and clicks and so instead of waiting for the idiot to comprehend it, I merely continued to flap a mildly testy hand his way as I clambered from my chair and then gestured for him to copy me in a hiss of true frustration,

"I refuse to sit next to him."

He grabbed up his hat and then shuffled out uncomfortably like I was some crazy pregnant lady who had taken this seat on the train before carefully lowering himself into my old chair and then proceeding to scrape the thing a few inches further away. Seth was almost on top of us by that point but having traded our places made me feel much better about that fact and so I simply went back to scowling at him huffily and mentally making fun of his horrible black suit.

Because _god_ it was awful.

He rounded the ring towards us and then smiled over the top of the monitors like a snake,

"How are we tonight folks?"

I knew what he was doing and I hated it because the whole thing was simply a crappy plan to get at Dean and pay him back for the trouble he had been causing since he had gate crashed his grand briefcase cash-in twenty four hours before and again when my fiancé had interrupted the one man monologue that his backstabbing teammate had used to kick the show off. In total it had only been forty eight hours since the stupid gold case had been undeservingly unhooked but already Dean had made it pretty clear to everyone that he would never allow his former brother to use it to win the belt or possibly even make it through another sentence.

Seth took his seat and slipped a pair of headphones on.

Damn.

Michael Cole kicked off the unwarranted introductions by leaning in across me as the camera focussed in and then tried his level best not to glare at me distastefully since sitting side by side was by no means either of our favorite thing. In my world however, it beat sitting next to the turncoat that had gleefully creamed me over the back of head and so instead I frowned and all but dared him to say anything which he thankfully chose to gloss over instead,

"As you can see we've been joined here at ringside by _Mister_ _Money in the Bank_ Seth Rollins and first of all congratulations on winning the ladder match – ,"

I snorted loudly.

"Winning?"

Flat out cheating was more like it since the big red machine had been supporting the steps, luckily though Seth seemed not to hear me or else wasn't bothered enough to need to take me on, since he merely patted his precious little briefcase and simpered proudly,

"Thank you very much and thank you for the proper introduction, I like that."

I rolled my eyes and groaned into the microphone,

"Please stop."

Seth scowled back at me from over the monitors and for a minute his expression was so haughty but well known that it took me straight back to our former near constant bickering which had been sparky but ultimately underpinned by love and which made my made heart ache for the _old_ him a little right up until more loud theme music kicked in. Randy was swaggering out from behind the hoardings and the sight of him alone sent a cold shiver through my bones, since whenever I saw him or thought about him or _heard_ him, the only thing I could picture was him pinning me beneath his form and his wet lips slopping up hungrily against me as I had screamed and begged and tried to prize him off. I hated even being in the same _state_ that he was and so therefore being ten foot away was almost too much.

I swallowed and then curled my hands to stop them shaking.

I felt sick and pathetic –

I hated him so much.

Luckily on that front though I wasn't flying solo, since the booing of the crowd nearly drowned his theme out and although his stride and smug smirk shone indifference, since I knew he wasn't deaf then he at least must have heard.

Good.

Michael Cole butted into my reverie and made me startle momentarily,

Huh?

"So in this matchup we have action between Orton and Ambrose since Roman Reigns has been barred from coming ringside to help – ,"

I huffed a little at the hypocrisy of _that_ one while mentally replaying the events of the night which had seen my fiancé being set upon by his enemies before our ever faithful big dog had come pounding right out and started throwing fists and evening the score up which had _then_ brought my livid looking father out as well. Dean had been tossed into action thereafter and Roman had been threatened against interfering in the match which frankly would have been perfectly acceptable had the blonde streak of hair not been sitting to my right.

I gestured towards him,

"Um, so then why is _he_ out here? Does that not seem unfair to anybody else?"

I turned my hands over and then looked between my colleagues who were purposefully attempting to avoid my probing eyes, since clearly neither one of them wanted to get into it or else get caught up in a bitchy slanging match, but which unfortunately they seemed to have precious little say in because my former ally and I had always been good at that.

"Why _wouldn't_ I be allowed out here?" Seth shot back innocently, "What did I do? I was out here talking and minding my own business when your crazy ass boyfriend and his buddy laid into me."

Fiancé.

I clenched my teeth and fought the bark back hotly, since announcing it there and then would not have been smart and especially not considering my talk with Dean the day earlier when he had insisted the silence was to try and keep me safe.

I bit my lip instead,

"You hit them with a steel chair and you gave me a _concussion_ and – ,"

"None of that matters now, I've already moved on from that."

I bristled like a lioness,

"Easy to do when you've sold your soul to my old man, or maybe not your soul but another part of the anatomy which is happy to bend over and take – ,"

More music blared out and the crowd around us erupted in excitement which pretty much matched the happy bleating in my own heart since a copper blonde head was striding out beneath the titantron to the twang of a guitar riff that had recently become his theme and which had already fast become my favourite entrance melody because the notes were his and entirely his.

No more sharing themes and no more moving through the fanbase.

Dean Dimples Ambrose the solo performer had arrived.

From beside me Michael Cole blew a sigh of relief out but probably because ping-ponging throughout our bickering had been beginning to hurt his tiny little head and so therefore my fiancé proved a welcome distraction from the animosity that had fast enveloped the whole commentary desk.

He hurried to fill the pause,

"Dean Ambrose heading out now with that left shoulder of his looking heavily taped up – ,"

He gestured towards the bum limb as he said it which he honestly hadn't really needed to do, since pretty much the entirety of my fiancé's left collarbone was secured up with almost a mile of white tape in a move that had very nearly cost the trainer who had put it there the tip of his thumb since Dean tended to like to bite and in that respect was like a great big lovable street dog in a battered pair of jeans that were going through at the knees. He pointed towards the ring then muttered at Randy and my stomach flipped over because I knew what it meant. It was literally the first time the two men in front of us had been allowed one-on-one since before I had been attacked so for Dean it was totally his chance at retribution and to score some very long overdue payback for his hassled fiancée.

 _Yes_.

His being there fired me instantly with a bubble confidence and I frowned towards the turncoat clutching the briefcase to his chest and looking for all the world like a hurricane survivor who had plucked up his most precious worldly possession and fled.

Briefly in the moment I very nearly sort of pitied him.

Not much though.

"Oh stop pretending Seth, because we all know that if my father hadn't sent Kane out to help you, then my fiancé would be the one holding that case and challenging for the belt that you hurt your family to get at."

Brown eyes gaped back at me startled,

"What did you say?"

For a moment I was blindsided by the openness of his expression which was weirdly sort of stunned or perhaps bizarrely impressed and so therefore jarred strongly with the facade of total asshole that he had brushed out recently and fully become. JBL too spluttered loudly beside me as he struggled to fight off the last reserves of his cold but then coughed loose an actual sentence that sent a chill through me,

"Did you say fiancé?"

Oh no.

Oh crap.

Beside us the bell suddenly rang out loudly and I positively launched from my seat with the shock but which fortunately took all eyes back towards the match up and so therefore managed to briefly let me off the hook even though I knew I had messed up pretty royally.

Interestingly enough though it was Seth who changed tack,

"Look, there are no rules in a _Money in the Bank_ ladder match, so the bottom line here is I'm the one that climbed the ladder and I'm the one who took that case down, _how_ I did that isn't important – ,"

Dean punched Randy hard in the gut and I couldn't help but chirp into the microphone a little because for the most part I still forgot the stupid things were turned on,

"Yay."

Blue eyes spun rapidly over in my direction as my fiancé wasted time by pacing around the ring while Randy tapped his nose in a check for blood in one corner like a true primadonna.

 _Princess you alright_?

Evidently he was asking if I was happy with Seth so close to me and even though we both knew that the answer to that was no, it wasn't as if the turncoat weasel was baiting me or somehow trying to upset me and so I nodded.

 _I'm fine_.

Even so it didn't stop him throwing out a death glare that I had to admit was sexy as hell and which Michael Cole picked up on as it flashed fiercely across the table and fuelled the next topic on his long random-chatter-points list.

"Seth earlier tonight Ambrose said that he would haunt you and that every time you tried to cash in that briefcase he would be there."

I smiled.

He had said that and I had liked it.

Beside me JBL let out a snort as he moved into the fully rounded Authority-Ass-Kissing mode that he had perfected to a fine art over the years and which he pulled out whenever he thought he could get himself brownie points as if backstage my father was hanging on his every word.

"Well it sounds to me like Ambrose is a sore loser."

Seth waved a hand in agreement,

"He is, the man doesn't understand that I'm smarter than he is and that I'm better than he is and that I _have_ been this entire time."

"What a pile of – ,"

My microphone cut off sharply at the exact same moment that Randy rolled from the ring and then hovered on the side lines looking up at my fiancé who was irate and had the momentum of things fully on his side. Ever since Dean had busted into my makeshift prison not three months back and rescued me from hell and then had to listen to my story of near-assaulting, he had been itching he get his hands in a full match on the poor excuse for a man and finally having been given the chance to do it meant that he had decided to waste precious little time. Randy blinked and then snorted a little, like he had from nowhere remembered a funny like joke and then he slowly began to circle the ring posts moving in towards the announce desk and in particular to where I was.

 _Oh god_.

Nausea welled up swiftly in my windpipe even though Dean was a mere twenty feet away and I bodily shuddered and even let out a tiny whimper as he pointed at my fiancé and then turned fully towards me. He stroked his chin a little like he was thinking about something then let his beady eyes track me up and back down as Dean attempted to surge forwards behind him but was held back by the harassed and repeatedly counting referee.

"Four, five – ,"

"Orton don't you fuckin' touch her."

Luckily _those_ words went unheard across the feed, otherwise there probably would have been a bunch of unhappy fathers and in particular mothers writing in to complain. Randy grinned at the effect of his proximity then turned to swagger his way into the ring at which point I realized that Michael Cole had leaned in close to me in a protective little motion that was surprisingly nice.

Huh.

He then cemented our tentative truce further by pecking at Seth with another of his long rambling thoughts,

"Why would you expect Roman Reigns and Dean Ambrose to act any differently? I mean, you guys had just come off an amazing victory over Evolution, you were the most powerful faction in perhaps the history of this company and you went and turned your back on them and joined the Authority."

I nodded in a rare moment of agreement,

"Well said."

Back in the ring Dean was still control of things and his eyes were glinting with the knowledge of that fact and also the longed-for sense of retribution that briefly made me wish it was myself in his place, being able to repeatedly smack the taste from Randy's features and making big angry red slap marks that rose up across his chest. Seth held up and then pointed to the briefcase that still made him look like the tackiest businessman in the world but his smug little reply about his career trajectory and recent victory fell on deaf ears as Randy dropkicked Dean –

Right into the middle of his injured shoulder.

My fiancé went down to the mat with a thumping and actually let out a pitchy growl of sheer agony that even the microphones in front of us picked up and my stomach flipped over as I leaned in closer and let my head fall into my hands.

"Cover by Orton and a kick out – ,"

Dean was still fighting like he would had done because my beautiful man would never say die and to that end somersaulted himself out of an arm lock and instead flipped Randy onto his front. He paused very briefly then pounded his wounded shoulder and I wondered if he wasn't trying to beat the joint back in, but then that thought was lost in a shiver of excitement as we all heard him yell,

"You wanna play games, huh?"

Yep, he was angry and was it maybe a little weird perhaps that I found that side of him totally hot?

Looking up as he pinned Randy's legs and pulled his head back, Dean made eye contact roughly with Seth and then pointed towards him with a grin of sheer warning that his pathetic former brother briefly even gulped at before trying to play it off like a kid in the schoolyard,

"Oh, you – you wanna fight? Come on, come bring that to me."

I snorted,

"He doesn't want to ruin that nice suit of yours."

His brown eyes swung towards me hotly from over the brim of JBL's resting hat but I ignored him brightly as I continued to watch the action although Michael Cole chuckled and took the thought on,

"Seems like every time he's wanted to fight you, you've run away from him."

JBL gasped,

"Are you tryin' to pick a fight here?"

But instead of respond our eyes were taken back towards the ring again as Randy tripped Dean right into the ring post and then began to wrap the injured shoulder around the rope coils.

Uh oh.

Randy jumped off the apron towards the flooring and hauled Dean's arm along with him as he went, producing a bark of pain from my fiancé then an opening for The Viper to slither in over him again, trapping my man beneath his overly pumped body and then prizing the shoulder up and away.

Michael Cole managed to sound unusually sober,

"Orton working on the injured shoulder – ,"

Eek.

Evidently that sentence was the theme of the night though, since the next sequence of moves saw Dean battle up onto his feet again before being roundly super kicked in the hurt collarbone and propelled out of the ring to land in a heap beside the rampway screaming up into the sky.

I launched to my feet,

"What are you gonna do Lauren?" Seth taunted gleefully, "You gonna go save your man?"

"Maybe you could hit me in the head with a chair again?"

My instant biting sarcasm thankfully shut him up again but rather than rip off my headphones and stalk to the rescue, I instead paused for a second unsure of what to do because I knew for a fact that if I ran to help my fiancé then he would be pissed at me and Randy would probably strike me down.

"Ambrose is getting back into the ring again – ,"

I blinked in response to Michael Cole's words but sure enough there were the familiar copper blonde bangs hauling themselves wearily back into view and probably with full knowledge that I was thinking of interfering and so therefore trying to stop me from doing something badly thought out. Even so the next few minutes were torture because from flying high Dean swiftly moved to on the back foot as Randy pounded hard at his injured shoulder with holds and pin attempts and kicks and brutal drops.

I hated him –

I hated him more than I hated anyone and that included the turncoat man sat to my right as Seth tried to fight his own corner more verbally like he could in any way defend all the shit he had done wrong.

"What is Ambrose so hellbent on getting back at me for?"

I balled up the paper list of matches in frustration and then barked at him stormily as Randy speared Dean into the post, because I had never been good at handling pressure and the combination of terror and worry was virtually eating me whole.

Ugh.

"Because you gave me a _concussion_ you moron, because you beat them with a _folded up chair_ and _probably_ because we loved you like family and you threw that away for a selfish shot at gold."

Michael Cole even backed me up a little,

"Nice suit Seth, been going to Triple H's tailor?"

Evidently the two of us were a verbal tag team now and even though it didn't lessen the out and out horror of watching my fiancé writhe around in pure pain, it felt nice to have someone to in the same place that I was and refusing to take the Authority's endless shit.

Seth grumbled mildly,

"It is a nice suit isn't it?"

My own response was short but unflinchingly firm,

"Nope."

By that time Dean had been thrown from the ring again and then unceremoniously hauled right back in and even though I was pouring the bulk of my frustration into bitching at Seth, it wasn't really helping things, because there was only so much more punishment my man could fully handle and it looked to everyone like he was fast approaching that point and so as Randy lined him up for another toss into the ring posts I shut my eyes sharply, unable to watch.

Instead the crowd burst.

"But this time it's Orton who goes shoulder first as Dean Ambrose creates a little bit of space – ,"

I blinked then looked up.

But sure enough there was Randy, hanging from the ropes like a pathetic suckling pig while my fiancé caught his breath then drove his shoulder into the matting to try and click the thing back into place. I honestly had no idea whether or not he managed it but regardless of that point, he swiftly hustled control back and then knocked Randy clean off his feet over the top rope before backing up like he was going to –

I shouted,

"Dean, _no_ – ,"

"Look at this lunatic," JBL shouted as my man bounced off the ring ropes and then took to the sky, launching himself right out of the relative safety of the fighting square and landing pretty solidly on Randy's head.

Ouch.

But yay.

Dean tossed him back in again and then paused on the threshold like he had left the oven on and I blinked momentarily because I could hear his mind whirring and from the way he had fallen silent, I figured that so could Seth.

"Get up, get up Randy – ,"

Dean turned towards us and in less than a second was steaming our way, hitting the announce table in a full movie baseball slide and then shooting off the edge of it and barrelling into Seth.

"Oh look out, look out – ,"

Dean hit him beautifully in a move that knocked his former brother onto his ass and took them both to the floor in a tangle of body parts which my fiancé wasted little time in flailing fists into as well, before hauling Seth up then throwing him into the barricade with so much frustration that he let out a yell. He was stumbling a little and unsteady on his spent legs, but he staggered back towards us regardless of that and then leaned in over the monitors almost absently to grab me up in a fantastically sweaty kiss, cupping the back of my head and mashing our lips up in a sticky, warm hold that I melted wholesale into,

"Mmmmm."

JBL gaped,

"Hey now, this is a family show."

Both of us resolutely and pointedly ignored him and instead let the kiss reach its natural end, which then seemed to give Dean the strength to continue, like a pit stop for fuel because he bounded back into the ring and then kept up laying his best moves all over Randy which worked pretty well in keeping the momentum in his court and which made me love him more than physically possible since he was frankly the most perfect human being in the world.

"Ugh – ," Seth meanwhile was still writhing beside us, half stunned from having had his head bounced off the cordoning wall but at the sound of his grunting I couldn't help but chuckle,

"Better check up on our little buddy don't you think John?"

Randy suddenly hit Dean with a power slam and then set him up on the ropes for his signature DDT but which was then swiftly countered as my fiancé put his feet down and then used his shoulder to propel his enemy out of the ring. Dean was readily and almost literally on fire and he followed that up by trying a suicide dive again, which I had never particularly liked watching him doing but in that moment was actually pretty excited to see because I knew if he hit it then the match would be over and I was so _more_ than ready for that to be the case.

"Get him baby," I grinned into the microphone.

Dean took a breath and turned airborne through the ropes –

Before launching himself right into the metal corner of the briefcase which Seth had suddenly hefted up in an attempt to block Randy and turn the whole match up and which worked in that respect since it battered Dean hard and planted so solidly into the middle of his shoulder that it sent him tumbling face first back to the earth.

"No – ,"

I startled at the feeling of JBL grabbing me as I once again instinctively tried to surge up and which prevented me from flashing around the desk without thinking as the bell loudly sounded the abrupt finish of the match.

Randy gestured back towards the empty ring anyway,

"Get him in there buddy."

Seth complied right away, hauling the man he had once called his brother onto his pained and totally bewildered feet, while I struggled to extract my sleeve from the Texan as I yelled across the table,

"Seth please don't – ,"

Naturally he ignored me, because everything we had been through and had meant to one another had been completely thrown away and so in the end I could only watch in total growing panic as Dean was pulled precariously upright and then ate an RKO.

Michael too seemed utterly disgusted,

"Make no mistake about it, this is why Rollins was out here."

JBL predictably took the villain side,

"The man was simply trying to do commentary when Dean Ambrose attacked him for no reason at all."

He was still holding onto my shirt sleeve as he argued in an attempt to pull me into a sit and I followed the tug numbly as I gaped at my fiancé who was lying pretty much prone in the ring as Seth tried to tear the white bandage off him and then stamped on his poor and newly unprotected arm while I squirmed and yelled and panicked in protest,

"Let go of me, I – I have to help him."

"How?"

Michael Cole threw the question at me rapidly but for once not in censure because it was a genuine request as if he thought that I possibly held some mythical answer on how to take on two evil and turncoat wrestlers alone and on which point I was more than likely to disappoint him since I didn't have the first clue about holding my own.

"Come on Dean, please."

Randy swiftly pinned his head down and then twisted the injured shoulder back and up in the air, as Seth climbed up onto the top of the ring post to prepare for a jump that would break Dean's bones for sure and which I honestly couldn't really even fathom was happening because –

Because Seth _wouldn't_ do that.

No, just no.

No way could he cause an actual lasting injury, not when I knew that deep down he still cared. No way could he have faked being happy with us for so long and no way had he so rapidly thrown those feelings to one side or somehow convinced himself they hadn't meant anything. Dean was his _brother_ and would forever be that.

I hoped,

"Oh no, they're gonna reinjure that shoulder – ,"

Seth paused for a second and then boldly stood up at which point my heart dropped into my guts heavily because from that point surely there was no going back and I chickened out and clamped my eyes swiftly together since the noise of the attack would no doubt be bad enough, but which meant that I therefore missed the arrival of a familiar vested figure.

"Hey look, it's Roman Reigns, the match is over, Reigns can be out here."

I gasped then looked up in amazement,

"What?"

In front of me Roman was clearing house rapidly with a fury I hadn't seen since they had taken my father on and which was fuelled by the love that Seth had turned his back on as he punched Randy hellaciously then pounded his fist into the ground. Behind us the crowd was exploding like crazy as the prospect of a body shattering spear loomed large and Roman too seemed eager for it to happen based on his arm swinging and yelling and glaring.

"Ooooh."

Managing to finally shake JBL from my shirt sleeve, I slipped my headphones off and then scurried towards the ring, before skirting to the side where Dean had been rolled limply then pooling down next to him before cupping his sticky face,

"Oh god, are you okay?"

Blue eyes blinked back up painfully,

"Is uce gettin' 'em for me?"

Peering up revealed both Seth and Randy retreating but not broken in half like I'd hoped they would be, so instead I bit my lip and then nodded reassuringly as I stroked his wet hair back from his face,

"They know they've lost."

Roman swung through the ropes and then landed between us as his modified version of their old music rocked the ground and then slid a big broad hand beneath Dean's shoulders to sit him back upright,

"Uce, you okay?"

"Shoulder fuckin' hurts."

Roman nodded sympathetically and then turned his big brown eyes towards me, looking to check on both his travelling partners but managing to say precisely the wrong thing.

"Hell of a time to drop the news of your engagement, I thought you two were going to wait on it."

"What?"

Dean's barked shout echoed out loudly around us and I winced in response to it then bit my lip.

 _Uh oh_.

* * *

 **Surprise Dean, people know you're engaged now! Next chapter we have the fallout from that and it turns out that he might not be the only one who is unhappy…**

 **Drama, drama, drama!**


	7. Daddy Dearest

**Time to find out who might be a little less than pleased with news of the big engagement and I think we might be able to guess...am I right?! Lots of drama in this one folks. Plus on a side note, for anyone who has been following, my mother is now officially cancer clear, so a good day!**

 **AngelsDestiny22, Yep, the world knows, including the ones that they were trying to keep it quiet from! Still, good news for you since you like the drama! Loved writing Seth and Lauren bouncing off each other in the last one but yes, she probably does need to punch him at some point!**

 **Mandy, Lauren has become more feisty the longer she's there, but especially when anyone dares to insult her man, nuh uh! Seth is in this chapter too and I think you especially might be sort of happy even though I'm kind of vague in parts...well, read and tell me what you think!**

 **ShieldGirlBecky, I figure that if JBL is going to be insufferable then the least he can do is be caught in the middle of a brother/sister (former brother/sister?) bicker fest. Him and his hat of course! But yeah, the secret is out so now it's time for the fallout, strap yourself in!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Yep, yikes indeed and good question about how Triple H feels, I think you'll like this chapter because old papa Hunter in back in the mix not that he is winning any father of the year prizes, as usual!**

 **Skovko, Haha, I think if I had let Lauren finish that sentence last chapter, then this chapter would be Vince calling to have her fired, but you're right that Seth's reaction would have been hilarious! Loved writing the two of them bickering. As friends or as enemies it's still lots of fun!**

 **Minnie1015, He got beaten up a lot in this period, but was always scrappy and adorable nevertheless! And yeah, I'm super happy you noticed that part about Lauren repeating fiancé so many times that she gave the game away. Murphy's law and all that!**

 **Ohana1337, Glad you liked that part especially. I mean, who wouldn't want Dean to stop in the middle of a match to give them a sweaty kiss am I right? But I love writing and imagining all the sweet moments…also as an added bonus it freaked out JBL, so win-win all round!**

 **LunaticxLass, Well, good news because the wait is over and there is plenty going on in this chapter too. Lauren has disapproving faces all round in this one but on the plus side it sets us up nicely for the next phase of this story. I mean, at least I hope it does!**

 **Moxley Gal1, Aww, I know, but Dean is Dean and sometimes his anger gets the best of him. Besides, in his own way he is trying to keep her safe. I think Seth was more surprised than anything, but probably a bit hurt too. More of him in this chapter...yay!**

 **Fallout in 3, 2, 1...**

* * *

 **Daddy Dearest**

Dean had been given the main event match up, so by the time Roman and I had helped him back onto his feet again the titles had been thrown up and the tapings were done, which meant that we could hustle him backstage to the trainers to check on his shoulder.

He protested the whole way.

"I'm fuckin' _fine_ – like – can move it an' everythin' check this out."

He swung his arm up like he was about to lead a symphony but then promptly the entirety of his handsome face screwed up and he bit his lip and held a hasty _fuck_ back as spasms of pain violently laced him up and down.

Roman raised a brow,

"Do I even need to say it?"

Dean huffed a breath out but continued to slouch as we trod ourselves a path through the packing crates and trolleys that were already being packed up ready to move to somewhere else. Ever since Roman had unwittingly dropped the bombshell of _my_ unwitting reveal of the fact we were engaged, Dean had very pointedly chosen not to say anything and nor had he looked at me, which was a sure sign he was pissed. Instead I had trampled along quietly behind them letting him have his moment because I knew it would come and trying to figure out why the hell I had said it, but which was pretty hard to do since the last fifteen minutes seemed like a blur.

Eventually he grumbled,

"You told the whole fuckin' world huh?"

" _Accidentally_ ," I stressed like that would make it okay or like me being totally indiscreet and fully hopeless on the microphone was a tiny little slip up instead of a ginormous major one.

Dean shut his eyes and sighed at me,

"Lauren – ,"

"I know okay? I know, I'm a big crazy mess who can't even cope with a simple conversation without blowing the whole _secret engagement_ thing sky-high, but, I mean, Seth kept on rambling and calling you my boyfriend like us being together was this _weird_ kind of thing and I guess I got angry that he was being like that so I was yelling back at him when it just slipped out and – ,"

"Princess."

I blinked to find that we had ground to a standstill, or more accurately to find that I at least had stopped and that the pair of them had then been forced to back up a bit on finding that I was no longer blundering along behind. Dean was clutching his throbbing shoulder with his free hand, but his blunted blue eyes were honed in on me as he lowered his head so he was looking right at me to cut in through my monologue.

I faltered a little,

"Um."

"You're doin' that whole nervous ramblin' shit again y' know."

I shrugged,

"Because you're mad at me."

Dean blew out a breath and then looked away as he considered his limited options before letting his hurting shoulders suddenly slump back down and then shaking his head and letting a little growl out like the he was done with the entire night.

He possibly was.

"Yeah, I'm pissed okay? Because we talked about this shit and how I was tryin' to keep you safe."

"But – ,"

" _But_ I guess I fuckin' get why you said it."

I blinked like I had misheard him and then let loose a frown, because it seemed like something my stupid brain had inserted rather than something he had spoken aloud and so therefore I needed to make totally certain that I wasn't going anymore mad than I really was.

"You – you do?"

"Princess, I _jumped_ the guy remember? I mean, I looked over and saw that fuckin' smug face of his then launched myself, an' _I_ wasn't sittin' there listenin' to him talkin' so I totally get why you were all fired up."

His hand moved from his shoulder to tweak my chin gently and he ghosted his thumb lovingly across my bottom lip which up until that point I had obviously been biting since he pulled it back out again,

"But you're still mad at me right?"

He shrugged,

"A little."

"Ugh – ,"

"But I'll get over it an' whatever an' I mean right now I'm more pissed that those two fuckin' backstabbers got the best of me twice in one single freakin' night."

He swung his curled fist out to punch the wall lightly – or possibly not lightly – but then tapered off with a bark as his shoulder fired back into life and reminded him that not five minutes earlier the aforementioned backstabbers had basically been trying to break it in half and that five minutes before _that_ he had banged it into the matting in trying to pop the thing back into its hole. Roman however clearly remembered all _too_ well since he put a broad hand out and steered us back along the hall, leading us with a big brother type sigh towards the trainer in an obvious need to check that everything was alright.

Dean paused on the threshold to the medical room,

"Princess, uh, I figure it might be better if you maybe skipped this."

"What?" I blinked, feeling hurt, "Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure I set my shoulder bone in wrong back there so they're gonna have to pop it out then put it back right and that means lots of grindin' of bones an' me swearin' an' you faintin' might kinda put the guy off his stride."

Oh.

 _Yeesh_.

I nodded in agreement but haltingly and while turning a tiny bit green since I was mentally picturing the resetting process anyway and it was succeeding in making me feel a little bit sick.

"Um, okay, I'll go and get the bags then."

"Nope," Dean snipped, "You're stayin' right here an' yellin' if the Authority get anywhere near you."

He loved me so much.

"I think I can probably manage that."

Rocking up onto the tops of my tiptoes I wound my arms about his broad neck as carefully as I could, trying not to lean myself on his poor battered shoulder but using his strong body to keep myself propped up. I swept my fingers through the shorter little hair strands at the back of his neck and then bent in for a kiss, that he responded to at once with a tiny little murmur but I could feel his lips smiling against me nonetheless. Releasing the hold he waited a second for me to roll back onto the balls of my heels and then shot me a look while pointing towards the room they were about to waltz into.

"Princess, you scream if – ,"

"Authority members are near, got it."

I threw him back a tiny salute and he snorted at me while fighting the beginnings of a laugh back before groaning and following his older brother through the door. His shutting it plunged the hall back into silence and I blew a breath out and then clicked my fingers.

I was already bored.

In the pocket of my suit pants my carefully tucked away engagement ring was beginning to burn a hole right through the threads and so I extracted it like I was unwrapping a stick of dynamite from the tiny little purse I had secreted it in and then stared at it in the starkly stripped halogen lighting before putting it back onto my third finger where it belonged. After all what did it now matter if I was wearing it having announced our intentions to the world? Besides, I was proud to be Dean's new fiancé so wanted to prove that with a simple flash of my hand.

"Who me? Yes, yes this is an engagement ring."

I grinned at myself then blew a breath out again as I pressed my ear to the woodwork of the trainer's room and then tried to listen out for any pained sounds.

Nothing.

"Miss Hope?"

I spun from my listening post both startled and rapidly like I had suddenly been caught but doing something totally embarrassing like pulling my underwear from out of my butt crack or possibly in the process of stealing candy from a baby since it made me red faced and ineloquent.

"Huh?"

Behind me was one of the backstage runners in the role that I had been allocated once before and which had actually been my first job within the company before becoming a valet and my new commentary role. He was a young guy but tiny and I blinked at him a little wondering if the kid was even old enough to work and so therefore not paying attention to how shifty he was being or else how he was point blank refusing to meet my eyes.

He wet his lips,

"You're needed for an interview."

"Excuse me?"

He reddened,

"Exclusive website content stuff, rapid fire questions."

"Oh."

It wasn't a huge stretch since that was the sort of thing the guys were forever having to do and to be honest I was actually pretty pleased to have been put forward, since it made me feel like a tried and tested member of the team and someone that Vince was clearly happy promoting which therefore had to mean I was doing a good job.

Right?

I nodded,

"Lead the way."

I thought about maybe telling Dean very briefly but then decided that I would be finished before he was and likely back in place by the time they were released again with my fiancé most probably buried beneath a mass of more white tape. Nodding his head the little runner took off in front of me and I followed him as he twisted and turned us through the halls in a way which no longer made me feel so bewildered and which also made me realize had far I had come and how the many odd trappings of the business had become normal and second nature almost.

Yep, get me.

He led me right up to a black door in a hallway that was suspiciously well cleared and free of travelling crap but then rapped on it briskly and ushered me towards it before I even had time enough to blink and so instead I pretty blindly stepped on through it as he pushed me a little and then slammed it in my wake.

Oh god.

Instead of being met by the sight of the cameras I was instead greeted by a long sleek wooden desk with two hated but otherwise well known figures stood behind it and glaring across at me.

I gaped at them,

"What – ,"

Hunter opened his mouth to answer but before he could say anything I swung back towards the hall, looking to march out in a silent storm of protest but instead bumping up against a sticky firm chest and then instantly feeling the air whoosh right out of me because the person stood in front of me blocking my exit and wearing tiny trunks was the man who had pinned me to a bed and then tried to attack me only a handful of months earlier.

Randy was there.

No, no, no.

I stumbled back instantly then kept on reversing in a clumsy little stumble that walked me right into the desk and nearly upended a chair in the process but which I hardly even registered since I was so filled up with dread and finding it hard to even draw breath in as I shook my head helplessly,

"Please, please don't – ,"

I had no idea what he was doing there with us but in the moment could do little but fear the very worst, because the asshole was wearing _that_ look on his face again and it made me freeze up bodily and hold myself tight. In reality I wished that I was one of those women who pitched up on Jerry Springer then went totally nuts and beat the living crap out of anyone around them, I mean, I knew how to punch because Dean had taught me how but yet whenever the big demons in my life showed up in front of me, I felt totally powerless and unable to move.

Crap.

I sucked a breathe in and it went all squeaky, then launched into the air as a hand fell down on mine, turning around and whipping it away again as Hunter stared back at me with hurt in his eyes,

"Lauren – ,"

"No," I interrupted him pitifully, "I want to go, please l-let me out."

I was painfully aware that the last time I had asked that had been when he had been holding me captive in a locked room and which he had pointedly ignored every time I had asked him and which meant that therefore my newest plea would probably fall on deaf ears too.

My knees were shaking –

I wanted Dean so badly and Roman too or anyone else to be there.

Behind me someone cleared their throat sort of mildly and I pirouetted on my feet feeling that Randy had moved and not wanting that bastard in any place I couldn't see him, but instead finding myself coming face to face with Seth.

Huh?

He was staring back at me but looking pretty sheepishly and his brown eyes were flicking up and then back down as if he wasn't really keen on having a part in what was happening and the fact that he was there made me steady a little bit, because even after everything that had happened between the two of us, he was still by far the safest one in the room and I believed – I _knew_ – that whatever he was feeling, he would never let them hurt me or haul me off again.

I hoped.

"I – I want to leave," I repeated,

"You're not going anywhere," Stephanie fired back from where she was stood like a rod with her red painted fingernails clasped tightly round the desk chair and clenched to the point that I thought her knuckles might pop off. Evidently my stepmother was furious at me but even given our enmity I couldn't work out why that was.

I swallowed,

"You – you can't keep me in here and if you try to kidnap me again I swear I'll scream, Dean and Roman are probably looking for me anyway, you can't win this time and – ,"

I was all set to ramble again and knowing it my stepmother cut me off swiftly but not in the cute blue eyed way my fiancé had, which had been full of love and amusement and safety, whereas the pitchy woman in front of me led with her usual chalkboard screech,

"What the hell were you playing at out there?"

"Um, out where?"

I was genuinely stumped and my confusion wasn't helped by her pointing towards the window that looked over the rapidly emptying out parking lot. Stephanie rolled her eyes back in long suffering,

"On _commentary_ , you think you can just suddenly announce that you're engaged?"

Ohhh –

I understood the problem in an instant, or at least about as much of it as I needed to at that point, because it seemed like they were pissed that I had promised myself to someone without either of us having popped in to run it by them at any point and not from a business perspective either, but instead from a fully hurt _familial_ type one.

I blinked,

"Are you – are you upset I didn't tell you?"

"Hunter is your father."

I glowered across the space at her,

"No he's not because real parents don't kidnap and lock up their children and they don't let people hit them in the head with a chair and they sure as hell don't let their drunken friends try to attack them and then pretend like somehow it doesn't really count."

I was back to ranting again but angry ranting and it was honestly about as passionate as I had been in several months and also the most I had possibly said to them since the night that Hunter had used Matt to bust into the locker room and which had also been the night I had told him of Randy hurting me and the night we had broken our family ties once and for all. Hunter himself was staring blankly across the desk at me but his expression was unflinching and I couldn't tell what it meant. Randy snorted and then shuffled impatiently and I spun back towards him and reversed into a shelf, knocking over a heavy looking tome on accountancy and digging my kidneys which made me wince. I moved myself closer to Seth almost subconsciously but my eyes never left The Viper.

He was leering at me.

Great.

"Lauren," Hunter started so suddenly that I actually let out a surprised little bark because every tiny thing was filling me with horror and my head was screaming so loud I could barely even think, "Randy and I have spoken about what happened and he has apologized to me for what he did, he'd had too much to drink and read the situation incorrectly so – ,"

"Incorrectly?" I frowned,

"He thought you were coming onto him."

Um, what?

My open mouthed gape said it all which was a good thing since actual words failed in the hail of disbelief. I knew that Hunter had never wanted to fathom that the man he practically saw as his protégé could be the sort of person that liked to prey on random girls, but the fact that he was so keen to believe him felt utterly soul destroying.

I could barely spit the words out,

"No," I shook my head, "No he – he knew I didn't want it, how could he – I was trying to break out of the room, I was running for the door when he pinned me against the wall, I was screaming I – ,"

Black spots fizzled across my vision as the flashbacks burst in like a pack of thieves on a raid. My legs began to shake and nausea rose up into my gullet until I had to bend over in order to fill my lungs up and in order to stop myself from falling over and fainting because I honestly didn't trust what any of them would do if I was out. Seth stepped in closer a little bit sort of instinctively but then froze when I whimpered.

Oh god I wanted Dean.

Hunter flapped some loose papers uncomfortably,

"Lauren, I trust him."

Bullshit to that.

My father didn't believe his golden child anymore than I did, but he had thrown away his relationship with me _and_ his reputation to push his uber handsy protégé asshole to the hilt and with Stephanie behind him spurring him on relentlessly there was no earthly way he was prepared to back down or throw away the control he had worked to accumulate simply to help patch up the rift with his blood child.

"He – he cornered me in the corridor before that, Seth saw – ," I was gasping because I was finding it hard to breathe and there was too much oxygen required across my body for my panic-constricted throat to be able to pull in.

Seth grunted,

"Uh – ,"

But he was spared having to answer by my wicked witch stepmother launching herself back in and looking pretty much as fierce as I had ever seen her which was saying a lot because being angry was her thing, like some tiny chipmunk with a ginormous ego or a head like a balloon. She folded her arms across her chest,

"We won't allow it."

"Huh?"

"We won't allow the marriage, so you can get that idea out of your head right now."

I blinked through my confusion because how could they stop it when it wasn't a storyline or anything they could control? Dean and I could have been married at any time and nothing nor anyone would stop it from going through and so although I knew that they couldn't prevent it, the fact that they were telling me not to seemed odd. Naturally however, given my bewilderment, I swiftly lost the ability to put that to words,

"Come again?"

Stephanie pointed a manicured nail at me,

"You place is with us, the same way it has always been and if you weren't so stubborn, you would have seen that already and come back home to us where you rightfully belong."

I bristled,

"I belong with Dean because he _loves_ me."

"You're young and stupid that's why I tried to make things right, that's why I thought if you and Randy could get together then maybe this whole mess could get straightened out."

What the –

Oh.

 _Ohhhh_.

Holy guacamole.

It was my stepmother who had punted Randy in through the door that night, or else had remotely told him to bust in on me and make it so that I somehow forgot about my man. I mean, for all I knew she had been in the kitchen pouring him alcohol and then listening as I screamed. In our nearly twelve months of having known one another, Stephanie McMahon had pulled some pretty terrible shit but encouraging a man to basically attack me was the lowest and most shocking thing I had added to that list and the nausea rose up again so fiercely that I almost threw up before slamming a hand across my mouth.

"Oh my god – ," I whispered in astonishment and I thought I very briefly heard Seth proffer up a _huh_? "You're the reason he almost – that he almost – ,"

I looked across at Hunter with tear filled eyes.

He knew.

Maybe he hadn't know when it had been happening but at some point the truth of the whole thing had trickled out and as usual he had sided with his precious devil woman like it had maybe been loose hijinks that had gotten out of hand. How much more crap had to be piled up on top of me before he stepped up and started being my dad? The answer to that was pretty clearly never and so I hiccupped out a sob and then weakly shook my head,

"No, no, I can't – I hate all of you."

I stumbled desperately in the direction of the door only to find Randy suddenly in front of me, still blocking my exit but also holding my arms and the feeling of his fingers burning clean into me then blew the lid clean off my barely held-onto calm.

"You're not going anywhere."

I may have had a breakdown,

"Don't touch me, let go of me, please, please – oh god no – ,"

I was screaming the words out and shaking and _fighting_ but also crying at the same time to the point that I possibly looked insane, since no one in the room seemed to know what to do with me or how to handle someone ripping apart at the seams.

"Hey come on man," Seth stepped towards us and whether by chance or else in response to it, Randy briefly let his firm grip loosen up and I ripped myself from his fingers and then shoved him away from me before hauling the door open and barrelling out.

"Lauren – ,"

I could hear both Hunter and Stephanie calling me but started to run as fast as I had ever run in my life, in a frantic burst along the maze of white corridors that was so completely headlong that I possibly thought I had gotten lost.

No.

Big hot tears streaked fast across my cheekbones then tore down my skin to drip off onto my neck, but which took so much energy out of me as I pelted that I had to then try and remind myself to breathe. Running and sobbing and trying to find my way back was taking every ounce of fading energy I had but I had to keep going since I had no idea if they were following me and I would not – would _not_ – let Randy Orton grab me back.

"Dean – ," I blubbed out pretty pathetically, before stumbling round a corner and into a stack of packing crates, but ones which suddenly seemed momentarily familiar and I looked up quickly.

Oh thank god.

Purely down to the intervention of fortune I had stumbled across the stretch where the physiotherapy room was and so thudded my shaking feet towards the door heavily as I either heard or imagined people chasing me from behind. My hand trailed a path loosely over the pitted brickwork because by that point it was practically holding me up and I fell against the door and then fumbled the handle before tumbling in crying across the threshold haphazardly.

" _Dean_."

"Princess? The fuck – ,"

My fiancé was standing pretty much right in front of me, with yet more white medical tape wrapping his arm but which I only managed to see in a tear filled sort of half-blur as I tripped over my own feet then fell heavily into his chest. Luckily his reactions were no less dulled for being injured though, because he caught me swiftly and then tried to haul me up with Roman too bracing an arm as I snivelled,

"I thought he was g-going to a-attack me again and that I would never see you and that we couldn't ever get married and the d-door was shut and – ,"

I broke off with a cough and then choked on a thick brace of tears until I was spluttering while Dean pulled me closer and tried to sweep my hair back,

"Slow down, easy baby, what the fuck happened?"

"H-Hunter and S-Stephanie and R-Randy – ,"

"What did they do?"

His voice fell low as he growled out the question and I could feel his body tense up beneath mine in preparation to go search them out and then kick the crap clean out of them and I sobbed again as it made me cling tighter, not wanting him to leave me ever again. If I had possessed a stick of super glue in that moment than I would happily have pasted us together there and then but in the end settled for pinching his skin in desperation like I had figured out a way that I could physically crawl in.

"I was s-so scared."

He kissed my forehead,

"Easy baby, I've gotcha an' I'm gonna get you the hell outta here."

* * *

 **Sooo, what do we make of Seth trying to help...or was he? Boooo to Randy and Hunter and Steph.**


	8. Come Fly With Me

**Time for the fallout then and a bit of a sneaky revelation from Dean too but for the best possible reasons of course...in his mind anyway.**

 **Hope you like it.**

 **Moxley Gal1, Thank you for your well wishes and I'm so sorry to hear about your mom *hugs* cancer sucks and the sooner they find a real cure the better. As for Hunter, well, I think he's beyond help in this story, but maybe Seth can still be saved at some point!**

 **Mandy, Thank you, very relieved to have the all clear for my mum. Stephanie sure is desperate to have her own way in this story as you will see later as well. Randy and Hunter are pretty much there for the ride too but there is possibly still some hope for your favourite!**

 **Guest, Well, you'll have to keep reading to find out, but Dean certainly has his hands full trying to keep Lauren away from her crazy father and he's with you that elopement is not the worst idea in the world so great minds obviously think alike!**

 **Skovko, Can't blame the girl for being inherently trusting, besides it balances out Dean nicely because he trusts no one (except for Roman obviously) and you're totally right where would I find my drama if she said 'no thanks' and kept on waiting outside? Needs me some dramas!**

 **Ohana1337, Thank you about my mum, it was a big relief so I felt like I had to share. You can hug Lauren too if you like, but in this chapter you might have a hard time getting a look in because Dean is right there doing his comforting thing...cuteness abounds!**

 **Labinnacslove, Yep, in Stephanie's twisted mind I really think** _ **she**_ **thinks trying to force Lauren and Randy together is the perfect solution to all their problems but obviously it will never be quite that plain sailing for her...trust me, she will try again though!**

 **Minnie1015, Seth I think is a little bit torn because even though he can pretend he hates Dean and Roman, he can't take his anger out on Lauren in the same way but yeah, has to be a vestige of goodness in him still. Might tease that a little more before this one is over…**

 **Ready, set, go...**

* * *

 **Come Fly With Me**

Dean cut off the engine as we pulled into the parking lot back at the rental place where we had picked the car up from, then blinked through the windshield at the bright lights passing over us as the hum of airport traffic lit the night skies above. In a couple of hours we would be flying back home again and I honestly couldn't wait to be surrounded by our stuff and somewhere where I could make out like everything was normal and that my life wasn't bewildering and totally messed up.

"Princess – ,"

Dean sighed then untangled our fingers which I'd insisted on keeping locked as he had tried to steer the car and which had made things complex but which he hadn't pulled away from because unlike my father, he always put me first.

 _Always_.

I blurted out the answer before he could finish it because I already knew what he was going to say and besides which he needed to know what had happened since I had previously been too preoccupied busting out tears to explain.

He needed to know.

"I thought it was for the website."

Blue eyes blinked back at me through the parking lot lights and seemed to sparkle in the darkness like gemstones which then summed him up entirely because he was one _hell_ of a precious find. In the rare moments when he wasn't being baffled by his fiancée.

"Website?"

"That – that was what he said it was for."

"Who?"

In response to the continued and hotly swirling bewilderment which was backlit by the fury he still had pulsing on, I took a long breath then steadied my heart a little since I probably needed to start from the beginning of the thing. I reached over the console and put my hands on his kneecap because I felt like I needed to ground myself to him and he responded by reaching over and laying his arm across my headrest before gently rubbing my cheek with his thumb.

Ugh, too perfect.

"I had a runner come up and ask me if I would go with him to film some of that random online stuff like when they ask for your favorite color and best movie or what animal you would be and – ,"

"Princess."

I was rambling again.

Right.

"Um, I – I know I shouldn't have gone with him, but he was so nervous and sort of tiny and I really thought it would be fast and because they've never asked me to do that kinda stuff before and so I guess I was flattered which is stupid of me but – ,"

I was briefly cut off as a plane passed low above us and both made us stop in a moment of _wow_ because I swear if I squinted I could see the passengers through the window and because no matter how many times I flew back and forth to places, I would never not be overwhelmed by how impressive planes were and so terrified but fascinated that they could get themselves airborne and then stay there without falling clean out of the sky. In the few times when it didn't suck, the human race was damn impressive and could pretty much achieve anything.

Dean blew out a sigh,

"So this runner led you right into the middle of a trap here?"

"Uh huh,"

"The little fucker – I'll rip off his limbs."

I blinked and then bit on my bottom lip a little because I knew how convincing my stepmother and father could be and how powerful and impossible to deny they were together and also how it felt to be on the bottom most rung and trying to be the one to try and keep them both happy at the risk of upsetting them and potentially losing your job. All things considered I actually felt a little sorry for the lackey they had somehow roped into their plan and so put that to Dean in a quiet little sentence since my fiancé was still busy basically cussing up a storm.

"It – it wasn't his fault, I mean, he looked pretty guilty."

"He'll be a whole lot more than that when I'm through with his weasel ass."

"No, please."

It came out as a tiny whisper but it managed to draw the fiery blue eyes back and in response to my pleas he grunted a little and then gently rubbed the bite marks out of my lip.

"Randy was there too huh?"

"Yes," I nodded brokenly as a lump began to steadily climb up my throat because I hated how much time I had spent thinking about him already and it seemed so unfair that he was lingering on, but there he was anyway as the elephant in the room again and the sooner I got out what had happened in the office then the sooner I could cry it out and hopefully be done, "He – he blocked the door to stop me from running out on them and he – he grabbed me by the arms."

I shuddered.

 _Ick_.

But Dean mistook it for coldness or else straight up wasn't sure how else he could help me and so peeled his leather jacket off then pressed it round my shoulders before tugging at the collar and giving me a loving wink. His aftershave scent was like breathing in smelling salts and the fabric was so warm that I melted into the thing and even blew a contented sounding hum out as I turned to kiss the palm that was still smoothing across my cheek.

Dean steeled himself,

"What else did he do to you?"

"Nothing because Seth then kinda made him let go and as soon as he did I got myself out of there and – ,"

Dean held up a hand,

"Wait, Seth helped you?"

"Uh huh."

Not that our former family member had charged in all guns blazing and demanded that I be let out of the room, but he _had_ been in the process of moving in to push Randy off me or had instinctively been moving to help in some capacity regardless of whether he'd have then bailed out on it or not and that thought warmed me because our friend was still in there somewhere way down.

Dean snorted in surprise,

"Shit."

Moving myself further towards him across the fabric I nuzzled my head into the palm of his hand, then hiccupped a little as I offered the next sentence because having to remember my captivity was _so hard_ and usually made me fluttery and massively anxious although I pressed on anyway,

"I – I think he remembered _the room_ and how broken up I was back then when you guys found me."

Dean screwed his face up,

"Do we have to talk about that? Makes me get all fuckin' itchy thinkin' 'bout it and you there all helpless cryin' your fuckin' eyes out not knowin' if anyone was gonna come getcha."

I bit my lip again,

"Sorry."

"Not your fuckin' fault. It wasn't back then and it's never gonna be either."

However his assurances suddenly fell on deaf ears because remembering when my stepmother and father had held me hostage, reminded me again of the subsequent attack and then the totally cataclysmic and earth shattering bombshell that had been dropped from the heavens like a warhead an hour back.

 _Oh god_.

For a second it sucked the breath right out of me and I blew it all out in an audible squeak before blinking into space like my brain had stopped working and which drew a frisson of tension from my bewildered and clued in man. Because boy was Dean ever in touch with my emotions, to the point that he knew instantly if I was feeling run down or if a movie or an advert was going to make me tearful or if someone had upset me or if something was off. I had once read about dogs being given to people with diabetes because they could actively sniff out the falling sugars in their blood and so had figured my fiancé had some human equivalent where he could physically detect a sudden fall in my fragile moods.

"Dean it was her, she – ,"

I broke off with a tremor as a sob of horror shook me right through to my core and would then have probably burst into hysterics had he not leaned in towards me and trapped my lips in a kiss.

Huh?

It wasn't a long smooch or filled with heady passion and nor did it hint at him needing anything else, because for once it was purely designed to break through my panic and to cut the fast encroaching tear-fest stone cold dead.

It worked like a charm too.

"Mmmmm – ,"

I happily hummed into it and then found myself blinking straight into his eyes as he broke the contact then held my face gently like he thought maybe my head was too heavy to hold up or was possibly being pulled down by the weight of all the trauma and the never ending drama where my stepmother and father were concerned.

"Easy baby, you're outta there okay? It's all good now. I'm not gonna let 'em fuck with you again."

I shook my head balefully,

"But she made him do it, she – she _told_ him to try and do what he did,"

"What?"

"Randy," I tentatively whispered the word out, like saying it too loudly would make him pop up or like he would show up out of nowhere and press his face against the windshield. I wondered if maybe the wipers could flick him off or possibly succeed in poking out an eyeball which would at least give the two of us the chance to get away and –

Dean interrupted those thoughts pretty rapidly,

"Princess, I'm gonna need this shit in full sentences now."

"Steph – ,"

"Fuck, I shoulda known that bitch would be in this somewhere, what's she up to now?"

I paused to consider my response since I knew it would make him go pretty much ballistic no matter how gently I tried to put it across, which probably should have made me shrug and simply go for it, but in the end I still attempted to spread the truth out.

"Um, you – you remember what Randy tried to do to me when I went missing?"

His blue eyes tensed up at once and one of the hands that had been cupping my features moved up to card through my hair aggressively in response, like it was a choice between that or punching out the window but which served as the answer because how could he not?

He grunted his reply,

"Mmhmm."

"Stephanie had the idea first, she thought – she thought that if Randy could seduce me then I would forget about you and maybe end up with him."

I stopped then swallowed back a bubble of nausea before toying with the idea of an anti-sickness bracelet thing, since I had spent most of the evening feeling pretty wildly vomitous and I was beginning to find the never ending process _not_ fun. Dean meanwhile simply blinked back in astonishment, not moving or speaking which was a rare thing for him and actually genuinely borderline unnerving because for a moment I was worried the news had maybe finally broken him.

I bit my lip,

"Dean?"

"That hoebag whore, that gutter trash, billion dollar skank bitch asshole."

Yep –

He was back and there was the sweary man I loved and I was so relieved to hear him cussing that I actually laughed a little before then tailing off into a choked up little sob, as my mood swung more rapidly than an antique clock pendulum and made my head spin to the point that not even I could keep up.

"Ugh."

It was literally the only word I could muster before I suddenly started crying again at which point Dean planted his lips onto mine a second time after uttering out a hasty little _fuck_ before turning it into light peppering of kisses that he scattered across my nose, my eyebrows and my cheeks,

"You're alright baby, you're alright, I've fuckin' gotcha."

"But what if she was right outside that whole time and could h-hear me screaming and – ,"

"Ssssh,"

Dean sounded cut up and I could tell it was because he hated having to picture the scene and the knowledge that something so horrible had happened while he hadn't been there to do his thing of protecting me and chasing away whatever made me unhappy,

"Hunter knew," I croaked over my snivelling, "Hunter knew and he still sided with them."

"Because he's an asshole."

"Uh huh."

I resolutely nodded back at him because that was the a point on which the both of us were agreed. My old man and his clique of crooked lackeys were assholes of the highest degree and so to that end I was totally better off without them even though my lack of parents was a huge gaping hole to me at times or possibly a trench or a gigantic funnel. Dean was still there though and I was stupidly grateful for that.

I sucked in a breath then tipped my forehead up against him,

"Thank you for putting up with me and trying so hard to keep me safe, when all I ever do is get kidnapped and cry all over you – ,"

He snorted,

"I love you Princess, so it's all part of the deal here."

He then lifted his head to press another kiss across my eyebrow and I grazed his arm lightly and then felt how cold he was, before shuffling in closer and cracking my elbow into the console as I manoeuvred his leather jacket so it could partly warm us both. I imagined that maybe it was how being camped beneath the stars felt only minus the fire and ignoring the fact we were in a car because the intimacy of it all seemed like it might be similar and so I put it to my fiancé as I huddled in towards his chest.

"Can we go camping sometime?"

"Uh," Dean sounded confused, "The fuck did _that_ come from?"

I shrugged,

"It seems like it might be romantic is all, I mean the stars and a little campfire and being cuddled together with marshmallows and with nobody else around for miles."

Dean snorted at me,

"What about the bathrooms?"

"Um, what about them?"

"Where would you go?"

"Oh, I – ,"

I paused then frowned into his ribcage because that was one point that I hadn't thought about and it killed the romance angle dead in the water since I could suddenly envisage myself having to dig a hole or squat in the wilderness with my underwear around my ankles and poison ivy tickling where it totally didn't belong and my fiancé chuckled at my obvious deflation which bounced me up and then lightly down on his chest.

"What about snakes and bears and mountain lions?"

"I – I hadn't thought about those."

I must have sounded pretty darn worried because Dean leaned in and gave me a kiss on the head, but one of his teasing little _mwah_ sound effect ones and I could hear him grinning broadly as he then tried to take back his response,

"Nah, I'm totally fuckin' with you Princess, we can go campin' if that's what you want."

"Um, how about we maybe try it out in the backyard first?"

"Next to all your makeup and the bathroom?"

"Uh huh."

Dean grinned back winningly,

"Whatever you want baby, y' know I could never say no to my favorite girl, I mean, if you wanted to fuckin' pitch a tent in a field of _landmines_ I'd be there in a heartbeat puttin' the poles in the ground."

I snorted at him and slapping his chest lightly,

"Idiot."

"Only because I'm crazy for you."

"Ugh."

Blue eyes sparkled as he pulled away then looked down at me and it was such a relief after all the trauma and the tears and it reminded me firmly that whatever else happened and whoever else passed me over my life was still practically perfect the way it was.

Dean winked at me,

"What? Am I soundin' too much like a greetin' card?"

"More like a hopeful drunk at the bar."

"Ouch."

For a minute or two longer we stayed huddled beneath his jacket but eventually Dean blew out a reluctant sounding breath and then stretched himself out and tapped my arm a little in a chivvying motion to move myself away and which I grumbled at a little because I was actually pretty comfy except for the cup holder digging into my breast.

"No, let's stay."

"We got a flight to catch remember?"

"Oh yeah."

He flung the door wide and a blast of cool air shot in to which I actually physically recoiled from bodily before folding into the warm leather which he willingly gave up. Dean had long grown used to me wearing his clothing because it smelt like him and was comfortingly large. Not in the uber sexy movie way either because no matter what Hollywood had spent years trying to tell me, wearing a man's shirt right after sex never worked and particularly not in our house since he didn't own dress shirts, but his hoodies were snuggly and I pulled them on a lot. I had even once spent several days wearing his boxers throughout a particularly heavy period that had made own underwear feel tight and hurt.

If that wasn't love then I didn't know what was.

"Princess? You gonna stay in there all fuckin' night or what?"

Rolling my eyes at his usual eloquence, I slid from the precipice of the always too high rental car, then trudged round to the back where he was pulling loose our cases and which I helped with by moving in close to him and then looping my arms around his back, giving him what looked like the beginnings of a German Suplex but actually giving him a grateful little hug.

"Hello."

He snorted at me,

"Fuck you're too fuckin' adorable."

"I was thinking – ,"

"Uh oh."

"Can we try the backyard camp out tomorrow night? I mean, we'll probably have to go out and get food and stuff for it but I figure that if you can maybe set the tent up then I can totally handle buying in the supplies."

Dean paused midway through pulling a case free and then stopped momentarily with it hanging in the air before coughing a little like he was uncertain about something and in response to it I frowned then slowly un-looped my arms. It wasn't like him to not want to say things, because usually the problem was getting him to stop and which was simply another way in which the two of us were perfect because I was a big fan of rambling on as well, only far less cuss-ridden and angry than my fiancé was and –

Yep, sure enough.

I was mentally rambling again.

Dean put the case onto the ground with a clatter and then raised a hand to scratch at his head, before turning back to me and shrugging a little sheepishly,

"Uh, we're kinda not goin' home yet."

I blinked at him,

"We're not?"

"Nope."

He reached into his pocket and then pulled out the plane tickets that he usually kept tucked safely for the both of us since he was more versed in travelling than I was and so tended to remember boarding passes and things like that, while I made sure we had snacks for the journeys and water to keep us hydrated as we drove. He passed them towards me and I took them from him slowly before checking the details. Well, at least the names were right and true to his word the flight took off in two hours and went straight to –

Huh?

"But this says – ,"

 _Cincinnati Ohio_.

He was taking me to his hometown? Oh god. He was taking me to meet his mother and as the knowledge of that begun to flood through me I moved between elation and straight up alarm. Evidently my fiancé also saw it coming and so moved to cut me off,

"Princess – ,"

"I haven't got a dress and I haven't had my hair done and oh my goodness, these are my only pair of boots and they aren't the nicest ones I own either and I wanted to get her a gift before too."

Holy heck.

I was freaking out wildly because in my head I had mostly figured I'd have time for all that stuff and so therefore had never dreamed of it being sprung on me before I had even begun to think it all out. Because meeting his mother felt huge and important and not the sort of thing I could ever wing on the hoof and I may have even then started breathing too deeply since the next thing I knew Dean had reached over to grab my arms,

"Princess? Hey. Look, this is why I didn't tell you, because I didn't want you havin' to overthink this shit."

"But your mom – ,"

"Doesn't deserve this panickin' you're doin' and is gonna love you anyway because how could anybody fuckin' not? I mean that Princess, you're – like – ridiculously perfect and way too good for me an' we both know that, so honestly she'll mostly be stoked that I caught ya an' made it this long without lettin' you go or chasin' you off or makin' you realize that you could do a lot better."

I shook my head at him resolutely,

"Nope."

Reaching across Dean pulled me against him and I went with it willingly and let my leather bound arms fold quickly back around as he rocked us a little and kissed me on the forehead.

"She'll love you baby, it's gonna be fine."

* * *

 **Okay folks, the next chapter shifts the action to a new city...I hope you're ready. Also, well done Dean for manning up and taking the plunge with the introductions *pats him* good boy!**


	9. Teenage Dream

**Time to take the first step back into Dean's former life then so be prepared for our big burly wrestler to generally be freaking throughout this one...stressed Dean is cute Dean though!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Thanks, I love writing them being all cute together, especially since things are going to be bumpy coming up, but then when are they not I guess?!**

 **Ohana1337, Haha, we might have to share because it is entirely possible that these sweet moments are a writer trying to live vicariously through her work, but I'm sure if we can get some type of schedule together we can make sharing him work out for us!**

 **Mandy, I have never been camping myself, I'm too much of a wuss for that because I like a nice comfortable mattress when I sleep but backyard camping I could cope with I think! Aww, thank you I'm super happy about my mum too. It's been a long six months here.**

 **ShieldGirlBecky, I figure that when Dean gets insensibly angry and has nothing on hand to hit then he probably swears a lot, so it seemed to fit, glad you liked it. Yep, Stephanie has moved up a step on the prime bitch ladder but at least it means more Dean comforting Lauren, so yay!**

 **Skovko, Oh don't you worry, Dean's mother is going to be quite the complex character and her relationship with both of them is going to be...um...interesting when we get there. Parents. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em I guess!**

 **Moxley Gal1, Poor Lauren is going to feel kind of like a fish out of water in Dean's hometown because it's a little bit different from what she's used to and his mom might not help much with that. More Seth coming later in the story, he's pretty complex and confused in this tale!**

 **Minnie1015, Cuteness between them is very much my speciality (and if you liked the last chapter I think you'll love the final one in this story, which is still a way off but is pretty cool...I hope). Drama coming but because it's me I'll be stringing it out (you knew that right?!)**

 **Labinnacslove, Ah but then she wouldn't be Lauren if she simply went with the flow. Girl has to get her panicking in first and then she can start to get her head around things. Naturally, Dean kisses and reassurance usually helps!**

 **Hometown action coming up then...**

* * *

 **Teenage Dream**

By the time we hit his hometown the night had given way to morning and the world was being bathed in a warm orange light which reflected off the tall imposing cluster of buildings that rose up before us as we crossed over the bridge.

"Wow."

In the bright light of morning the brickwork showed up yellowed since most of the structures were historic looking beasts but interspersed with the obligatory concrete monoliths of the sixties beside much newer towers clad entirely in glass. Passing on our right there were several more bridges reaching out over the river including one that looked super old and beyond it on the banks were the red painted seats of an arena that I could practically peer right into from the height of the road.

Dean raised a brow,

"I know, pretty crappy right?"

"No," I shook my head, "It looks really nice and kind of old and historic and – ,"

"Rundown."

"Um, I was going to say well kept."

Dean hadn't particularly spoken a whole lot since we'd boarded the plane several hours before and had then become uncharacteristically silent the closer we had headed towards the city itself. Initially I had assumed he was antsy about his mother and her possible poor welcome but it was beginning to seem like more and given the few facts I knew about his childhood I could only imagine that he felt oppressed being back home. I bit my lip and then put a reassuring hand out which I tousled through the loose tufts of hair beneath his hat and which stuck out crazily and made me giggle mildly because as usual he looked too impossibly cute. Blue eyes flickered over at the sound of my laughter and he then pretended to try and bite my hand, throwing in a hungry little growl noise as he did but smiling along too which had totally been the plan.

I hummed across the console,

"Please don't be unhappy, I like your hometown, really I do."

"Yeah well you haven't seen the half of it yet Princess, this part of the place everybody would like, but where we're headin' it isn't so pretty so maybe you should hold off on your judgement for a bit."

I made a noise back at him,

"Nope."

"Why the hell not?"

I continued to run my hand through his locks, teasing the individual curls out into straight lines before letting go and watching the strands wrap back up.

" _Because_ it isn't the buildings that I'm into, I like this place because it's where you're from and because this is where the super cute _teen_ you was and because this city is a big part of who you are. I mean, you like to say that I'm an apple pie or whatever because I come from an apple pie town, but that means that _you_ are kinda like this place, by which I mean big and gruff but a total hidden gem."

Dean smiled back wryly,

"Fuck."

"Does that make you feel better?"

"Not about my childhood no, but maybe about takin' you to the place where we're goin', because Princess, lemme tell you, they won't be sellin' postcards."

Oh.

Possibly because he maybe wanted to remind himself of what his much maligned birthplace was like or else because he wanted to provide me with some sightseeing highlights before we turned off to where he had grown up, Dean seemed to take the long way round the city which I let him do quietly happily taking in the view and in particular loving the cultural quarter where the tightly packed old houses had been painted in reds and blues and which made the neat little streets pop at once with vibrancy and a charm that caught my browsing eye at once. Book shops and cafes and standalone businesses filled my vision and I blinked at the beauty of the place with a covetous need,

"Oooh look, they've even got a market."

I had always been partial to a well-organized bazaar and had spent many long and happy hours with my mother picking my way through craft tables that were covered with homemade stuff or else peppered with antiques and old looking trinkets waiting to be purchased then lovingly spruced up.

Mom.

 _Uh oh_.

I predictably bit a tear back because I could totally see her meandering through it all or else standing talking to some of the local artists and sellers and brimful with things she had fallen for but would never need. It also made me worry again about Dean's mother and the warnings I had gotten about her on all fronts because although he had assured me that people naturally liked me, I wasn't sure if I knew how to act around her.

Mostly I was smiley and open and accepting –

But then why was it I felt like that approach would fire her up?

 _Ugh_.

For the rest of the ride I copied the silence and then watched as the bright colors and glitzy high rise buildings fell away and were replaced instead by square rows of apartments which then became more ramshackle the further we went until we hit the sort of areas that I had only seen in movies or perhaps in animal rescue type shows, where chain link fences flanked every last structure and the houses had shrunk to two storied properties but no more.

Brightly sprayed graffiti seemed to light up the neighborhood and appeared to have left no stone unturned, with the kerbs even spritzed in poorly washed off colors which at least mildly distracted from the pitted and uneven roads. Houses lined both sides of the streets around us but in mismatching shapes and in various levels of repair with trash cans badly overflowing out in front of them beyond overgrown lawns and badly peeling layers of paint.

It felt like being in the sequel to _Sister Act_ and –

Holy crap I loved that film.

Eventually a brightly painted peach-colored building rose up in front of us as we breasted a hill, then followed the slope to where the ground evened out again and at which point Dean pulled our rental car up. He had insisted on hiring the most battered thing they'd had available and in an instant I could suddenly see why that was since the big sleek black vehicles he usually liked to travel in would have probably caught attention or for all I knew have got us shot.

Oh god.

My heart hitched in my chest a little and I hated myself for it because I was silently casting judgements on where Dean had grown up and which was probably another reason that he had been so weirdly quiet because he had to have figured that on some level I would. I was already being a horrible fiancé and so I frowned and tried my best to look bright.

"So this is where you grew up?"

Dean looked over at me and then turned the engine off with a flip and plunged the surrounds into near total silence with the exception of the sounds of loud yelling somewhere near.

He huffed a breath out,

"Princess – ,"

"It's good and central, transport links into the center must be ace."

It was the first time in my life I had whipped the word _ace_ out and it couldn't have been more weird had I said it in a stupid voice and in response to it Dean blinked across at me knowingly and then bit his lip hard and slapped the wheel,

"Fuck, I knew it – ,"

"Huh?"

"This was a fuckin' bad idea, you don't belong in a neighborhood like this, shit, I'm gonna take us back into the city and get us a really nice ass hotel."

He moved to twist the keys into life again and I surprised myself _and_ him by launching over the seats, in a clumsy move that missed the ignition and resulted in little more than me landing in his lap and nearly elbowing him right in the grapefruits which would probably have made everything far more worse.

"No, don't – ,"

"Princess, what's goin' on here?"

Pushing myself up against his meaty thigh purposefully I tried to grope the car keys back from the hole, hooking them up on the tips of my fingers and then pulling them loose and into my hand.

" _Aha_."

"Lauren?"

I huffed wearily and then tried to push my hair back from where it had been flipped forward to tangle in my face and then emerged back into the sunlight blinking at my mildly annoyed but mostly baffled fiancé, who clearly thought I was having a breakdown but which was actually an epiphany.

"Nope, we're staying here."

"Gimme the keys."

He put his hand out to me and I shook my head again and then squeaked a little bit as his broad and fast fingers flashed in towards me anyway whereupon I panicked and threw the keys between my breasts.

"Oooh crap, cold."

Dean raised an eyebrow,

"Puttin' 'em there won't stop me gettin' 'em back you know, I mean if anythin' I'm _more_ determined to get those suckers out now so that idea hasn't really worked out so great for you."

I caught his fingers in mine and then squeezed them,

"I want to stay here."

Naturally I was lying of course because frankly there was nowhere I would have liked to bed down less than a two level block of apartments that had been painted borderline orange and which had great grills of metal worryingly covering each of the doors and flimsy balconies above that could only be accessed with difficulty by opening the stained and broken windows right out and which was flanked by pipes and imposing looking fencing that was either to keep folk out or keep the residents shut in. But regardless of that and the fact that it frightened me to be in a place where people glared at me across the road, the one thing that I _did_ want was to share his life fully including every single little gloomy and grim part.

I wasn't kidding –

I _needed_ to stay there.

Dean blinked back at me for several seconds longer and then hooked his index finger inside my bra and I huffed a little thinking I had failed to convince him but then frowned as he merely pulled me closer his way and then planted a soft and loving kiss on my lips that grounded me but that mercifully left the cold breast-keyring in place.

"I'll keep you safe, you don't gotta worry baby."

Evidently we both knew each other too well and I pecked him again in quick response then brushed his cheekbone because never once had I doubted that he would do.

"I know."

It turned out that he grown up in the bottom apartment and so after wrestling our stuff from the trunk of the rental, he turned the key in the lock and let us both in, which led us right into an open plan living space with a fan whirring hard in the ceiling above. Inside the room the heat was unbearable which was probably because all the windows were locked tight and the drapes were pulled across which made the place look shadowed and blocked out the otherwise bright late morning summer sun. Dean trudged across and flung them back with a grumble and the entirely of the apartment suddenly fell into plain sight but which didn't take long to commit to my memory because not only was it small but it was also pretty sparse.

Dean turned hotly towards the doors to the bedrooms and then bit out a growl that made me jump,

"Mom?"

Oh lord.

I braced myself for a sudden appearance and then tried to paint on a happy looking face which probably came over as totally constipated since my heart was hammering too hard inside my chest. Rapidly I smoothed out my clothes and then faltered before clasping my hands awkwardly and hovering uncertainly in the space.

Bring it on Mama Ambrose.

I was ready.

But nothing happened in the least and instead of anybody lumbering out from the bedrooms or the bathroom or _anywhere_ we were met by more space and, which the exception of the neighbors still arguing, a healthy dose of silence instead.

Dean grumbled,

"Fuck."

His brow twisted inwards and he strode across the room to step up the hunt, clearly not trusting his parent not to be crashed out and totally oblivious to our being there at all and in the interim I looked at my surroundings a little closer and then tried not to look like I didn't belong.

It was hard though –

Mountains of junk lay piled around me, including comforters, boxes and phone charging leads too which took up corners of the room and the surfaces to the point where I could only see one uncluttered looking chair and which was slightly miscolored and depressed from frequent usage so not too appealing. There were marks on the ceiling and on the walls that looked like pinpricks or like someone had been tossing up knives or more likely darts and there was a big damp patch rising up beneath the window which a handyman needed to fix before it got any worse. In front of me lay the tiny white kitchen which thankfully at least seemed clean enough but which smelt of cigarettes or else something stronger, so that I actually had to fight back a little cough.

Wow.

Dean appeared back out in the lounge again and then sighed pretty heavily before looking at me and probably taking in my awkward little posture and offering me up an explanation of sorts,

"She's not here."

"Um, so where – where might she be instead then?"

Dean flapped his hands,

"Your guess is as good as mine, I mean she could be workin' but that isn't fuckin' likely so she's probably propped up on her elbows in some bar or maybe standin' on some corner tryin' to score a hit from someone or with one of her asshole boyfriends – like – who the hell knows?"

"Hey."

Evidently it was by no means the super big homecoming that he had mentally been busy preparing himself for and as a result was he getting stressed about it and so instinctively I moved in across the space towards him, stumbling briefly on a loose couch cushion before folding in against his broad chest. His arms moved up to pull me closer to him and he then let his lips fall onto my head, holding them there and breathing my shampoo in as I carefully pressed my ear flat to hear his heartbeat.

"Dean?"

"Mmmm?"

"Am I allowed to see your bedroom?"

He raised his brows a little teasingly at me and palmed back my hair with a rough little growl which then tapered off into a husky sounding chuckle that I was glad to hear and which lifted my soul.

"Wanna see where the teenage magic happened Princess?"

"I mean, I figure since you saw _mine_ – ,"

He snorted,

"Yeah but yours was all cute an' whatever an' had photos of you an' all your little friends an' smelt like perfume an' flowers an' all that shit whereas mine is kinda more like a hole."

Nice.

But regardless of what was obviously his embarrassment about his bedroom and the place he had been forced to spend his early life, I unwound my arms with a grin from around him and then led him slowly towards the closed doors, backing up so that I could keep my eyes steadily on him and maintain the smile that promised I wouldn't cut and run and he rolled his blue eyes but then followed me reluctantly with a knowing little smirk.

I walked into a wall.

"Ow."

Dean reached out to lovingly soothe the head knock and then leaned in over me to open the door and I turned into the room with a hand to my cranium but excited to see the teenage lair of my man.

It was –

Um.

It wasn't as bad as he had painted it but all things considered it was kind of a mess yet in an odd way like he was still living there or something and had simply stepped out to go grab a bite to eat. His bed had been pushed right up into a corner to press against the rusted radiator grill and with the window lying brightly on its other side above a cabinet with broken and pretty poorly fitting and filled drawers. Posters had been stuck up on the walls all around us and from what I could tell were mostly wrestling or band based ones and there was also a large but tatty stars and stripes flag pinned up to wall where a headboard should have been. Draped over the bed was a brightly patterned patchwork which was handmade or possibly more likely from goodwill but looked super comfy if not a little ruffled like people in the interim had been sleeping in his space.

He scratched the back of his head and then gestured, clearly thinking the exact same thing.

"My mom probably let a whole bunch 'a people crash here."

"Oh."

"I mean, it's not like I use it anymore."

But in spite of that the place still obviously belonged to him, right down to the books piled on top of the cabinet that were written about conspiracies and other things he liked and which was further underlined by the rucksack on the floorboards which was evidently the one he had used as a through his school years on the fairly rare occasions that he had actually shown up there.

I breathed in deeply –

It actually smelt like him or maybe that was because he was stood alongside me and so untangling his hand I crossed towards the patchwork and tipped myself back on the bed with a bounce, before blinking in surprise as the mattress rose up to greet me like I was getting some sort of warm bedspring form of a hug.

"Ooh, wow."

Dean grinned at me,

"Yeah I fuckin' know right – like – I'm pretty sure that bed is the comfiest one I ever had, which is kinda ironic since I never really had anythin' an' I think it was already there when we arrived, but I had some 'a the best nights sleep of my life there."

I grinned like an idiot,

"Before you met me right?"

"Are you kiddin' me Princess? I barely fuckin' sleep at all now because I'm too busy checkin' you're breathin' an' shit or that you haven't been kidnapped in the middle of the night or somethin' seein' how much of a trouble magnet you are, I mean look at me, I look like I'm fuckin' eighty seven when really I haven't even turned twenty nine."

I rolled my eyes.

He was such a big drama queen and one that loved to lay it on thick but never managed to make it through without grinning which was exactly the look he was flashing across the space and which then grew wider as I pouted a little.

"I have never been kidnapped in the middle of the night."

"What about when your old man drugged you?"

"That was different."

"How?"

"Um, because I wasn't in bed then?"

In response to the hopefulness of my little suggestion, he snorted at me wryly and then peeled his leather jacket off before tossing it with practise across the back of a desk chair that was already piled high with what I assumed were his old clothes. Poking his tongue out in a teasingly little gesture, he moved in close until he was right in front of me and I fell back onto the quilt with a giggle in a hopeful invitation that he leapt on at once –

 _Literally_ leapt on.

In response to him suddenly launching towards me I squeaked in amusement then closed my eyes tight as the well used mattress bounced underneath me heavily and hands planted down on either side of my head. Dean was straddling me and grinning like a devil,

"It's still not too late to get a hotel."

"Nope."

Reaching up I looped my arms around his neckline and he lowered himself until his body was lightly pinning mine and then performed an impressive little miniature press-up that brought his lips to within kissing proximity to mine and which also said a million things he couldn't physically say to me, but most importantly told me that he was thankful that I was there and particularly that I hadn't run bawling from the apartment where he had spent his earliest years and so I deepened the lip lock then flickered my tongue through the opening with an actual half-chuckle of pleasure.

" _Hmmm_."

"Fuck."

Predictably the contact made his loin twitch shakily because he quickly shot a hand down to try and rearrange himself and to which I giggled at then made things worse by lifting my head up and then trying to suck a lipstick smudged hickey onto his neck.

"Whoa – ,"

Dean swiftly pinned my arms to the mattress in any easy little grip that wouldn't let me back up but the movement lifted up the hem of my blouse a bit and so exposed my stomach lying unprotected beneath and which suddenly seemed to strike him with an idea that I could practically see coming from about a mile off and the thought of it made me begin to squirm wildly in his tight hold,

"Don't you dare," I giggled warningly, "Dean _no_ – ,"

But it was too late because no sooner had I said it than my fiancé had lowered his copper blonde head down and then planted his lips across my belly button before blowing a wet breath across it like a child and which instantly made me squeal with laughter.

I hated being a super ticklish girl.

"No, no please – ,"

He kept on going as I writhed and screamed and tried to haul in frantic breaths but finally tapered them off into much more welcome kisses that he traced over my buttons and then up along my neck.

He grumbled against my jawline,

"I fuckin' love you for comin' with me an' for not freakin' out about all 'a this shit."

"Well I love you for _wanting_ me to come with you."

He lifted his brow again,

"We gonna fight about this now?"

I nodded,

"Uh huh."

But my confidence then faded as he promptly released my arms but then flipped me over onto my front and began to apply a very loose and light submission hold as I giggled for a moment and then pretended to tap out.

"Okay, you win."

He nuzzled against my hairline and then pressed a kiss against my earlobe that was tickly but warm, besides being almost aggressively adoring and which meant that I loved it,

"Yeah, but only because of you."

* * *

 **Next chapter Lauren is out on the streets of Dean's childhood and lets just say that things don't go too well, but then we knew that right because when do they ever for her? Hopefully that's why we love her though!**


	10. Hitting The Streets

**Time for Dean to show Lauren around his hometown in this one, although it's not exactly what you would call the tourist trail!**

 **Mandy, Aww you're welcome, I actually had a lot of fun trying to picture and find inspiration for what his childhood home might have looked like and his bedroom etc. Made my creative juices flow! Plus I love putting Lauren in fish-out-of-water situations. It helps her grow right?!**

 **LunaticxLass, Haha, not to worry, Mama Ambrose is a' coming and she is going to be central to the next couple of chapters as you will hopefully see by the end of this one. But she's going to give them the runaround a bit first which I guess is her prerogative!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Well, your wish is my command because there is definitely more angst in this one. Sometimes I feel like I should give Lauren a break and then I realize it would be no fun if I did that so I keep on throwing stuff at her! Sorry girl!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Aww, thank you, I will totally try and keep it up I promise! Lots going on in this chapter coming up so if you like a bit of drama this is the one for you!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, *Waves* Hey, nice to have you back! Yep, Seth is going to be in this story a little bit more yet (and the next one even more) but couldn't tell you who strangles him or even if they want to! But first we have a Mama Ambrose to try and deal with!**

 **Skovko, There is always a calm before the storm, even with all the storms I throw at these two! Yeah, Mama Ambrose is going to be an interesting character (or at least I hope she is!) let's just say she's not going to be an easy sell on the engagement because where's the fun in that?!**

 **Minnie1015, Aww thanks, little bit of both, needed some pictures to make sure I was being at least vaguely accurate for the neighbourhood etc. but the rest of it was me so let's say 50/50 on that one. I was going for bleak but not** _ **totally**_ **bleak!**

 **Labinnacslove, Very much a new world for her and it's sink or swim too! Not quite her apple pie hometown! Luckily she's got Dean there to look out for her though...not that he helps too much in this chapter as much as unwittingly makes it worse!**

 **Drama coming...**

* * *

 **Hitting The Streets**

Dean lasted maybe the next two hours before he let his anxiety for his mother eat him whole and turn him into a pacing swearing person who had then started to wear a little groove into the floor.

 _Fuck_ had become his word of the moment,

"I swear she pulls this fuckin' shit the whole time – like – she hops out for maybe a week without tellin' anyone an' then shows up when we're basically outta our minds and staggers in wasted actin' like nothin' has happened or fuckin' pissed at us because we've been tryin' to track her down and like make sure she isn't in a dumpster or whatever – ,"

I had blinked at the sound of a popping noise from outside and had then considered the merits of taking cover from the gunshots before my fiancé had clued in to my suddenly wide eyes.

"Princess,"

"Huh?"

"It was only a car backfirin'."

"Oh."

I had instantly felt pretty stupid after that and had been keen to make amends for my lack of ghetto knowledge by falling back on the one thing that I naturally had and which I offered towards him as he had again paced hotly by me and which had briefly made him stop as I had grabbed up his hand,

"Maybe we should go out and look for her?"

Dean had grumbled,

"Princess, what would be the fuckin' point? I mean, she could be anywhere."

"But it would make you feel better to be out there doing something instead of driving yourself mad, besides if you never chose to tell her we were coming then how does she know she's even supposed to be at home? She could be having a cup of coffee with a neighbor – ,"

Dean had snorted a little at that but had then had evidently seen the logic in my suggestion because his shoulders had slumped and he had grabbed the keys up,

"You stay here."

"What?"

My heart had flipped over since the last thing I had wanted was to be left in that place surrounded by the lengthening sounds of an argument as whoever it was that lived up above them had a pitchy screaming match with their evident no good boyfriend and which was obviously violent since the furniture had been moving as both of them seemingly gave as good as they had got.

Dean hadn't seemed to even much hear it,

"I figure it might be better or whatever if you stayed put 'stead of steppin' out there with me."

"How? I – I mean, two sets are eyes are better than one right? So with both of us we can find her a lot faster than on your own and I can scan while you do the driving."

He had sucked an uncertain breath in,

"It's kinda dangerous out there."

"But – but I thought you were going to protect me?"

I must have sounded either sad or overwhelmed, because in return my fiancé blinked back momentarily and then snorted at me roughly while waving his hand,

"Grab your fuckin' coat."

 _Whoohoo_.

He started out locally by cruising our rental through the streets close to their home which promptly turned up nothing except a few heart stopping moments when people had shouted towards us on noticing our stares. Frankly, if I had ever entertained the vaguest notion that I possessed the life skills to survive the mean streets, then being in the passenger seat as my fiancé took us round them was a pretty good way to let me know that I was wrong. Never in my life had I felt more like an alien and that included my very first time in the ring but which seemed almost easy looking back on it with hindsight and in comparison to being in the place where Dean had lived.

In essence I was simply a small-town country person –

Mean streets were certainly not where I belonged.

Having exhausted the places in their neighborhood where he thought she might be, Dean drove further back into town and once again the buildings and the structures around us shifted into tightly packed businesses and busier streets and I blinked at the names and trades of the store fronts.

"Um – ,"

"You okay Princess?"

"There are a lot of strip joints, oh and pawn shops, there – there are a lot of those here too."

Dean waved a hand like he had long made his peace with it,

"Two things in life that folk are always gonna need, money and sex an' not always in that order, that's the way the world works out here. My mom used to pawn our stuff out so often that I got used to comin' home an' findin' half my things gone. I had to hide shit that I liked or take it with me, that's why the backpack was sittin' on the floor, that thing saved like a _bunch_ of my wrestlin' tapes."

I leaned across to stroke small circles on his arm,

"I'm sorry."

"Why? Not like it's your fault Princess."

He slapped on the blinker and then pulled over to the kerb, landing us right alongside our third dive bar but which was already looking like the worst of the lot. I wasn't even kidding on that point either because the tiny brick building looked like a jail cell, comprising a small brick square of one storey with tiny slit windows that were further reinforced by bars and the door to which was made of thick rusted metal and which had weeds growing up from the sidewalk all around. It was positioned on the corner of a small run of businesses which in themselves were unappealing but which the weird bar made look pretty nice and it was topped by a stained sign that proclaimed to sell _udwesier_ since half of the thing had at some point fallen off. I possibly even recoiled at it a little before bending forward to read the name of the place,

"Joe's Lounge?"

Dean snorted back at me as he switched off the engine and then wrinkled his nose in the direction of the bar, from which I gathered that the inside of the tiny little prison cell was about as impressive as the façade of it was.

Nice.

"Basically a coffin with a lotta bottles in it – like – no fuckin' seats either because there isn't any room, worst fuckin' bar in the whole 'a the city so I figure it's a good place to look for my mom."

He snapped off his seatbelt and then flipped on the child locks which thunked into place and made me nervously jump,

"What are you – ,"

"Princess," Dean peered at me through the doorway as he climbed from his seat and then turned back to make his point, on which he seemed to be totally unflinching with no hint of his usual light hearted cavalier front, "Stay in here and don't move for a second."

"But – ,"

"Stay in here."

He slammed the door and then was gone, leaving me to watch him pull his baseball cap lower and then saunter towards the crappy little bar, but looking so cool and smooth and in control of things that my momentary offence pretty happily shivered off. He was wearing a pair of dark blue ripped denims, that hung too perfectly off his cute ass and were the slightest bit baggy which made the image more tantalizing because it meant I had to picture what the folds were covering up. His biceps were bulging against the sleeves of his white t-shirt but in the natural way of a buff man who worked out and his hat was pulled to a jaunty little angle so that the peak sat mostly over the tip of his right ear.

Never in my life would I get tired of watching him –

 _Darn_.

I huffed out a sigh as he pushed into bar and then took himself from my lusty line of vision which frightened me a little because I felt totally alone and marooned in a neighborhood I was clearly not best suited to and which left me totally clueless as to how to blend in more.

Maybe big heels and a tight leather mini-skirt?

Because the women I could see were totally rocking that look and working it fully with such pure and total confidence that I actually envied them their empowered-female ease.

You go ladies.

Beside me on the sidewalk someone blew out a wolf whistle that was so freaking loud that it actually made me jump against the fabric but which I also assumed was likely aimed at the women strutting their confident little ways about town and so was therefore in the process of blowing a shaky sigh out when a head popped up in front of the windshield.

"Oh, om – ,"

It belonged to a guy who then tried to bellow in to me,

"Hey pretty lady, wanna come out and play?"

Nope.

It was clear from a mile away that the guy was pretty hammered since he was having a hard time trying to keep himself straight and which was also enhanced by the bottle of vodka that he was holding up proudly and which he had almost licked dry. He had a thick black goatee and then an homage to a mohawk but the length of which he had at some point accidentally buzzed off and a scab on his nose that was part of a bruised cheekbone from where he had fallen over or possibly been punched. His shirt collar was askew so that it fell off one shoulder like he was trialling a brand new ladies' fashion style out and when he grinned it displayed a mouth of teeth so sharp and jagged that for a moment I assumed he had filed them that way. It took a second longer to work out the things were all broken at which point I shuddered in a full-bodied response,

"Ick."

He stumbled around to the passenger-side door and then tried the handle.

 _Eep_.

I was so grateful they were locked.

"Damn, you look like a thousand dollars. What? You don't speak when a person is being nice?"

He was pretty much a shambling mess of a person but that didn't make it less weird or frankly any less terrifying since I was sat there alone with his face pressed against the glass blowing condensation onto the window he was so weirdly close. Despite having tried the handle without any success once, my new drunken admirer pulled the latch a few times more while I sat and tried my hardest to pretend he wasn't out there in that hopes that he would potentially get bored and wander off.

I muttered to myself,

"Dean, please hurry up now."

"What was that you're saying in there girl? Come out little lady and I'll show you a good time. Fuck. Don't be a tease mama, open up the door."

I shook my head.

No way.

" _Open the door for me_."

If I had been some sort of government psychologist or someone studying the ugly effects of too much drink, then I guess that I probably would have found his rapid meltdown far more interesting than I actually did, because really the transition was astonishingly speedy and possibly connected to a questionable mental health. But in the end all I did was squeak in pure horror as he suddenly began to thump his elbow hard against the glass with the aggression of a man who was trying to bust in on me.

I unclipped my belt and tried to scrabble across the seats,

"Go away," I yelled in full-on panic, figuring that if I could escape through the driver's side then I could maybe make it into the bar to find Dean, only my wasted attacker was surprisingly speedy because the next thing I knew, his face was there again.

"Come out bitch – ,"

I shrank back against the fabric trying to work out what the hell to do next, when suddenly a big flash of white burst out of nowhere and propelled the guy away in a two handed shove.

"The fuck you think you're doin' man?"

Dean.

My face light up instantly like a million of those super cute paper lantern things and my cold clammy heart began to pump out warm blood again which washed through my veins in sweet hot relief. Regardless of the fact that I had managed to find trouble yet _again_ without having done a single thing wrong and which a lesser man probably would have been annoyed about, my fiancé was only pissed with our drunken friend, who was still attempting to regain his balance in an inebriated dance by the side of our rental car and who seemed to be losing his sweat pants also since his boxers were rapidly becoming part of the show.

He frowned towards Dean,

"What the hell is your problem? I was just being nice – ,"

"Swearin' at her through the door huh? Yeah real _nice_ you asshole,"

"What are you like her brother or something?"

 _Ewww_.

Dean lifted an eyebrow at that and then stiffened as the guy stumbled back upright and then proceeded to shamble in, puffing himself out and then swaggering forward in a hopeless attempt to match my man's height but still dangerous enough that the tension rose tenfold, which was kind of saying something since it hadn't been low before.

"Actually man, I'm plannin' on marryin' her."

Is it wrong that I kind of shivered at that part? Because hearing him claim me and feeling so hopelessly wanted was still a sensation that had yet to grow old and I bit down on my lip to stop a bubble of belonging from rising up and issuing itself as a misplaced laugh.

"You're tapping that?"

"Hey – ," Dean barked out a warning,

"What you gonna do bro?"

"How about I kick your ass?"

In regular circumstances I would have put good money on my fiancé knocking the guy down in one light punch or possibly even a violent sneezing motion since my wasted pursuer could barely hold himself up, but which changed in a moment when the guy reached into his waistband and whipped a knife out that he extended in a flip and my heart turned over and then ran fully cold again because the chances of Dean winning had suddenly tailed off.

 _Oh god, oh god_.

I flattened against the window in a frantic pounding motion,

"Dean, please – please get in the car."

"It's alright Lauren."

He sounded worryingly even and nor did he even look briefly my way, since the guy brandishing the big knife had his whole focus and rightly so too although that didn't help _me_ much.

I banged on the glass then tried to lift the handle.

Damn baby locks.

"Dean please, I'm okay, get in and we can call the police out and – ,"

I tapered off into a squealing noise as the drunken man lunged in and made a frantic slashing sort of move which he carded through the air in the spot where my man's ribs had been, but catching precisely nothing since Dean had stepped back, with his hands held up ready to try and grab the blade away from him.

 _No, no, no_.

My mind flashed back horribly to the million and one news stories I had read over the years about people being stabbed and how their poor loved ones had sat and held them while they had waited without hope for the ambulance to arrive. I could practically picture the scene being played out with me bawling hysterically and stroking Dean's head and it momentarily took my mind clean off the action which I snapped straight back onto as a fist suddenly flashed out.

It belonged to Dean.

Smack –

It caught the drunk on the cheekbone and propelled him back in a clumsy little slump and Dean used the momentum to move in again closer in an attempt to wrestle the knife from his hand.

"Fuck you man."

It was my admirer who was shouting as he obviously realized that he was on a losing streak and he fuelled the animosity with a last burst of energy as he again made a slashing motion that tried to plant a trench across Dean's chest.

"Shit – ,"

In an instant my fiancé was bent over and with his arms clenched over his ribs in pure shock and trying to clamp whatever horrific internal damage had been caused by the serrated and still wildly swung knife.

" _Dean_."

My scream of absolute horror burst out so loudly it even floated from the car and seemed to knock the sense back into my attacker who blinked a few times and then rapidly turned and fled, clearly not wanting to be anywhere near us when the ambulance and police and first responders arrived, but which I barely even saw as tears of dread poured down my cheekbones and I grappled relentlessly but uselessly with the locks.

 _Come on, come on_.

"Dean, I – I can't get out of here, please, please – you have to open the door."

My fiancé did what I said in a slow movement but with one arm still wrapped in protectively around his chest and which for all I knew was gushing hot blood out and so which I therefore needed to rapidly try to stem. I practically fell out of the driver's door onto the sidewalk, but was then up on my feet again in a flash and tugging his arm down as I talked ten to the dozen and at the same time began to strip my cardigan off.

"Princess – ,"

"Oh god, okay, it's okay, I – I'm going to use this stop the flow of blood, or maybe I should make a tourniquet out of it or maybe – oh why can't I remember how this is meant to work?"

"Lauren – ,"

"I'm here, I'm here, I'm going to save you."

His arm was still pressed in over his chest and I pawed it down with a grunt of exertion and then began to probe my fingers through his shirt which had sure enough been sliced in a line below his pec muscles but which I was too pumped to realize was still pristinely white.

Maybe it was shock?

Maybe the blood hadn't yet noticed there was a gaping hole carved over his chest but which would likely begin to pump out the red stuff at any moment and so plugging the gap was the crucial next step. Dean's hands fell away and then reached down to seize my wrists up in a firm little action that I tried to squirm from as I pressed my mohair cardigan in closely and generally shook and cried in both panic and action-mode.

I shook my head at him,

"No, I need to stop the bleeding."

"Princess," Dean gave up and planted his hands on my cheeks instead and then forced my head to properly look up at him as he used his thumbs to brush away my tears, "I'm not hurt."

"What?"

He prodded at his middle and then took my fingers to feel for myself, moving them backwards and forwards across his abdominals through the rip in his shirt that I had been convinced was a body cut. I blinked in bewilderment still shaking all over and the continual rattling clearly messing with my mind, since I had been _so_ sure of him bleeding to death in front of me that I couldn't really fathom much of anything else.

He grunted a little,

"See? The asshole didn't get me, he just swiped my favorite white shirt here is all."

"But – but you doubled over and – ,"

"Figured it was the best way to make him move his drunken ass, potential murderers don't tend to hang on the sidewalk and wait for the police to turn up y' know?"

"I – ,"

For a second I simply blinked back towards him like the lights were on but nobody was home until the basics of what had happened managed to settle down over me at which point I let my cardigan tumble onto the floor and instead surged in to wrap my arms around him as my legs began to falter like they would no longer hold me up. In fact I threw myself so hard at him that I actually managed to vaguely knock him back, only unlike the drunk he found his balance pretty quickly and then lowered his head to kiss my hair as I shook.

"Princess? Fuck _._ I figured you knew what I was doin'."

"I thought I had lost you," I miserably choked out in what was quite possibly the most broken hearted little sentence that had ever managed to splutter its way past my lips but which was also tied in first place for being the most grateful since I was also being swamped with the phrase _thank god_.

He kissed my head again,

"You okay baby?"

I produced a bizarre sort of noise in response that was partly a hiccup and partly a scoffing thing.

"You m-mean apart f-from the fact I thought he'd stabbed you and h-him screaming at me t-through the window and c-calling me a bitch?"

He held me a little closer and then chuckled back wryly but I could tell he was also pretty furious as well, because he had already been antsy about me being in his hometown and within the first afternoon I had been picked on by a drunk and all thanks to his decision to leave me outside without him, which I could tell he was internally beating himself up for.

"If he had fuckin' bust in through the glass – ,"

I cut him off by lifting my lips for a kiss and then proceeded to chase off both of our anxieties by pressing myself to him like I was never letting go and needing the physical proof that he was healthy by which I meant _not_ sliced up by a knife.

"Did you find her?"

"Who?"

"Your mom?" I reminded him as we broke apart by remained in place on the kerb, tangled together like we had skinny dipped in super glue.

Dean snorted roughly,

"Nope, they haven't seen her ass at all, an' I'm not gonna waste any more of my time on lookin', 'specially not if it's gonna put my girl through a fuckin' world of hurt."

I sniffed,

"I'm okay."

But it was pretty clear I wasn't and nor was I likely to be for a good few hours yet and knowing it Dean pressed me back into the rental carefully and then silently drove us back to his place, letting me keep our fingers tight together and occasionally reaching over to card through my hair. He pulled up outside the apartment block quietly and then led me inside still holding my hand and I stumbled behind him feeling almost inebriated and swirling with relief and fear and a million things. It had been beginning to get dark pretty rapidly around us and so by the time we let ourselves in the apartment the place lay dusky and dark.

Dean flipped the light on to help us and then startled,

"What the fuck?"

Perched on the sofa was a blonde haired woman.

"Mom?"

* * *

 **Poor Lauren (and Dean) out of the frying pan and right into the fire! Next chapter we meet Mama Ambrose proper and find out what she has to say about things...**


	11. Meet The Family

**Here we go then, Mama Ambrose in da house!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Yep as if it wasn't bad enough what I just put them through I'm throwing Mama Ambrose in too! By the end you'll have to tell me whether you think the drunk or Mama is worse!**

 **Skovko, Oh absolutely, sarcasm is the national identity. It's a way of life not a choice! Yep, Dean's hometown really is something, well, at least the part that he grew up in, the rest could be lovely?!**

 **Mandy, As always you're super welcome my lovely! Glad you could picture it all happening even though it was probably a bit tense! Got more drama in this one but not as action packed!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Thought it was time I threw a bit of action at you in that last one and there's more drama here too but not on quite the same way because here comes Mama Ambrose again!**

 **Minnie1015, I'm just working on the next Dean and Lauren and then I've got a plan for the one after that if that helps? Just when I think I'm done with these two an idea hits me. I can't give them up!**

 **LunaticxLass, Mama Ambrose has a** _ **lot**_ **to say in this one and in the next few chapters too so look out! Also, Lauren is not even remotely done finding trouble in this story because we've still got a way to go!**

 **Labinnacslove, Yep, expect lots of drama in this chapter and most of the rest of the chapters to come...not that Mama Ambrose features in all of them but she's sure a handful in the ones she's in!**

 **Moxley Gal1, Lauren probably did have her cell phone, but we know she's not the best thinker in situations plus she thought it would be quicker to simply run to Dean herself. But the drunk was fast!**

 **Ohana1337, Don't worry I got your reviews (thank you as ever). Haha, I think most of us would be happy to look at Dean all day! Lauren is sweet and Dean's mama takes note too, strap yourself in!**

 **Mama Ambrose time...**

* * *

 **Meet The Family**

Mama Ambrose was at once both everything I had pictured but also nothing like I had imagined her to be at all and I honestly wasn't sure which one of those two things momentarily threw me off my stride the most. Her eyes were blue much like her offspring but not mottled in the beautiful way that his lusting orbs were and while his face carried some flesh and a pinky color hers was impossibly pale and thin.

Maybe that was the drugs?

I swallowed my nerves back and in the deafening silence it sounded like a bomb had gone off or must have because the cold gaze then snapped towards me and with such sudden intensity that I almost instinctively backed up.

Uh oh.

Her skinny arms were clad in a battered looking sweatshirt and she was perched on the only free pew on the couch with one of her knees bouncing up and down repeatedly like she was trying to blow up an imaginary air bed and with her fingers picking and fussing at one another like she was physically unable of keeping herself still. Perhaps that was even where her son got his twitchiness?

Dean grumbled the word out in shock again,

"Mom?"

In response to his surprise she actually sneered at him and it was by no means a kind or welcoming little sound but instead was loaded with the type of raw bitterness that as far as I knew was a sure fire way to start a brawl.

"Mom is it now huh? Kinda figured you'd forgotten me along with the rest of the folk in this town. Not good enough anymore for the big successful wrestler."

"Fuck."

His fingers tensed readily in mine and made me remember our hands were still tangled since he had recently been slashed at by a knife wielding loon and I wasn't prepared to let him go prematurely or more than likely ever again. Dean was positively vibrating with anger and so to lessen his frustration I stroked his bicep with a loving hand, hoping to remind him that I was still there with him and that I completely intended to support him through the meeting but which then brought the biting focus rapidly back to me,

"So this is her huh?"

"Mom – ,"

Dean interrupted her with a warning but he still wasn't quite quick enough to stop her penetrating blue eyes which slung up and down then examined my figure in a way that made me feel about a half an inch tall and forced me to lift a hand in an awkward wave gesture,

"Hello, um, it's nice to meet you at last."

His mother ignored me like a hadn't even spoken and her reluctance to acknowledge me was a hugely crushing thing because it was literally everything I had been worrying about happening with the exception of the whole being-punched-in-the-face-thing and so therefore was like having to live a waking nightmare with the earlier added bonus of the inebriated knifing thrown in.

"Your girl is way too skinny and pretty, she'll be like a lamb to the slaughter around here."

I blinked,

"Um – ,"

"She won't last five minutes in these parts before the scumbags show up to try and eat her alive. Christ boy you sure know how to pick out the live ones. _Disneyland_ hasn't got shit on this kid."

For a second or longer I simply stood blinking because I honestly had no idea how or what to throw back or whether she was being an absolute bitch to me or actually complimenting me in a roundabout way, since being called pretty sounded like a fairly nice thing but was tempered by the more scathing cartoon princess bit. Had she meant to offer out a full verbal clapback or was she poorly trying to tell me I looked sort of sweet? I was about as confused as I could ever remember being and it apparently turned me speechless.

Dean however was not so stumped,

"Leave her outta this, she hasn't done anythin'."

From that I assumed that the compliments had been bad and the realization made me hitch a little breath in because there went my hopeless attempt at playing nice. In the moment I wished I was more like Kelly since I was pretty sure she would have thrown a pithy statement back or managed to pull off the front of not being bothered since she had always been a girl who was effortlessly cool. Back in our school days I had sorely wanted to be her but that had luckily faded the older I had become until for the most part I was happy with the woman I had blossomed into, although I possibly would have killed for a little of her confidence right then.

 _Ugh_.

His mother snorted derisively back at him,

"Not done anything huh? So where have you been? Your ass hasn't shown up here in _months_ and I'm thinking that it probably has a whole lot to do with _her_."

In trying to emphasize her bitter little argument she pointed pretty harshly at me, with the tip of a finger that may as well have been a gun point or some sort of spy-movie futuristic laser since it honed in across the space in near enough the same way and stabbed me right in the middle of the breastbone until the sensation of her nail-tip made me actually want to wheeze, but which was stupid because she was twelve feet away from me and from what I could tell, not armed to the teeth.

Dean stepped forward and out of my fingers,

"Well I'm here now but guess who wasn't earlier? Oh that's right the answer to that is _you_ mom an' it was _her_ that was out there tryin' a help track your ass down."

I wasn't sure I liked being constantly referred to in such a hotly spat out little word as _her_ and so I lifted a hand, looking a lot like I was back at school again but not having the confidence to make myself sound more loud,

"Um, excuse me?"

Both of them ignored me which actually made it my worst reaction so far and to prove that point further was then rapidly drowned out by his mother sneering dismissively once more but across the room at us in a crumpled expression that appeared to be a signature move of sorts.

"Didn't fucking ask you to come out looking for me."

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me here? That's _exactly_ what you just said. Bitchin' about me never comin' to see you an' not carin' an' shit. Well then what the hell is this? Because it's not like I came here for the good times y' know mom?"

"So go back to your nice big house then."

"Don't tempt me on that."

Briefly the pair of them fell suddenly silent like they were taking a moment to prepare themselves or breath and which hinted at a round two rapidly building that I wasn't sure I could cope with listening to again since I had never been good at confrontation of any sort and especially between families.

I stepped forward after a beat,

"Um, hello again I'm Lauren. I – I never got to that part before and I wanted to say thank you for letting us stay with you and also for having such a wonderful son."

It was the speech I had basically been mentally rehearsing since the moment the two of us had stepped on the plane and when I had assumed that the first meeting with my soon-to-be-in-law-mother had the potential not be a total train wreck of a thing. Really in lieu of the fact that she clearly hated me I very probably should have spent time switching it up or possibly have made the choice to can the missive totally but in the moment it was literally the only thing I had left and seemed so much better than the tense and building silence that it had blathered right out of me before I had the chance. In response to it his mother blinked at me for maybe a minute and then snorted before looking away,

"I'm going to bed."

"Oh."

If it had physically been possible for me to deflate balloon-like then that was apparently totally what I did because the next thing I felt were two hands on my hip bones as Dean stepped in behind me and then gently pulled me back, pillowing me up spine-first against his muscles in a way that let me know he was aware I had been crushed and stamped into the ground like a tiny little beetle that had met the heel of an inebriated boot –

Because _wow_ was his mother ever completely hammered.

I hadn't really noticed it when she'd been safely sitting down, but as she stood upright it became readily apparent in the way that she stumbled and then grabbed the arm of the couch, before frowning towards the floorboards like they had the gall to be moving in a way that they obviously never had done before. Halfway into her bedroom she flapped a hand at us,

"Go stay in a hotel or something."

"We're stayin' here mom."

"Suit yourselves then but don't go expecting some fancy breakfast."

Dean snorted wryly,

"Never have done before."

He waited a second longer until she had stumbled across the threshold and then stood watching her try to pointedly slam the door which turned out to be pretty genuinely impossible since she had too much trash piled up in front which she then had to boot in a clumsy kicking move as she cussed in way that was both impressive and desperately sad. By the time she had it clear the momentum had been lessened and so she simply blew a breath out and then gently pulled the thing shut and plunged us into both silence and solitude.

I shivered a little, feeling shell shocked,

"Dean – ,"

"Hey."

Knowing where my pathetic little mumble was likely heading, my fiancé spun me to face him but fractionally not fast enough because I blurted the rest of the sorry sentence out anyway in a whisper like I thought that his wasted mother might hear.

"She – she hates me."

"Princess, she hates everyone so I wouldn't take it too fuckin' personally, okay?"

"But she'ssupposed to like me, besides you said she would love me."

I shook my head and then pouted a little but couldn't really help it because I felt like a kid, who had literally had someone take a hammer to their dolls house or had who watched someone kick their favorite teddy bear in the crotch.

"Lauren."

But he might as well have been talking to a brick wall since I was so entrenched in misery that I barely heard him at all, because none of it seemed fair in the general scheme of things and my run of bad luck was starting to drive me insane.

I hung my head heavily,

"Why is everything always difficult? I just – I just wanted this _one_ thing to go right. I wanted to come here and be accepted by your family and find someone who would love me and fill the hole left by my mom and maybe take me shopping but – I mean – I guess that's not important just so long as she liked me which she doesn't _at all_. But then we get here and there are all these people shouting and I tried so hard to like your hometown but I'm scared all the time which makes me feel pathetic because I'm letting you down and then I got in myself trouble with that guy and I wasn't even looking at him or anything, he just suddenly came over and then he pulled out that knife and – ,"

Dean reached up and caught my lips between his fingers, pinning them shut gently.

Huh?

"Sorry Princess, but this is for the best here, because if I let you carry on we'd be here 'til – like – the mornin' an' the birds would be singin' an' all that kinda shit."

I mumbled back and he lifted his fingers,

"But I was trying to apologize."

"You've done nothin' wrong."

"What about that guy trying to break through the window and – ,"

Dean huffed a breath out and then pulled me into his chest, letting me nuzzle myself a space in his slashed shirt front as he wound his arms around me then rested his chin against my head and predictably being buried almost totally in him and breathing in his aftershave did wonders for my nerves, because he smelt all spicy and musty and _pepperminty_ from the piece of chewing gum he habitually turned about and all of those things were like smelling salts or opium.

He was my drug and I couldn't get enough.

"Princess, like you said okay? The guy bein' an asshole is never gonna be on you. I mean, I can't even blame him for tryin' to bust in you because – like – I mean, you're pretty fuckin' cute."

"He tried to stab you."

"Tried an' missed baby, besides, that's fuckin' better than him tryin' to stab _you_."

I huddled in closer,

"I'm really trying to fit in here."

Dean snorted back at me in a sour little note and then brushed my hair back before palming my forehead in a ham-fistedly teasing move that tipped my skull back and therefore compelled me to peer up into his eyes again which I honestly didn't and probably _would_ never mind.

"Princess you're not allowed to change a thing you fuckin' hear me? Especially not for this place, because I'm tellin' you, it's a hole."

I blinked,

"The market we passed earlier looked pretty."

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh."

"Then I'll take you there. I mean, I figure we need to do somethin' tomorrow unless you wanna hang here an' make small talk with my mom, or maybe park up on the streets and wait for addicts to yell through the windows an' try to pick a fight?"

I snorted,

"Oh haha, I'm _so_ happy we can laugh about it."

He planted a kiss on my nose,

"I mean it baby, tomorrow is all yours, so if you want to spend it lookin' around the market, then that's what we're doin' for as long as you want."

In response to the gesture I hummed at him happily and then rose up onto the point of my toes, because sometimes being pressed against his pectorals was nice and everything but simply still not totally close _enough_ and in those moments I needed to be physically face to face with him and able to feel his breath on my skin and have his lips ghost over mine when he said something and kisses –

Mostly I just needed his kiss.

I pecked him sweetly and then returned for a second one, that I made sure went further and longer than the last and in response his hands slid first to my hip bones and then round onto the curve of my spine where they crossed and rested against me sweetly and the warmth of which was only broken when my stomach kicked up a fuss and for some unholy reason chose that precise moment to remind me that neither one of us had eaten properly since last night.

Not good.

"Hey you, _shush_ ,"

I hissed at my mid-section crossly but regardless of my warning it began rumbling when I breathed until my empty intestines sounded so darn unhappy that I couldn't help but giggle.

It felt super good to laugh.

"Christ – ,"

Rolling his eyes at his ridiculous fiancée who was laughing at the sound of her stomach eating itself, Dean unhitched his hands then tangled them round my fingers before standing from his slouch and beginning to pull me along, towing us back towards the front door and the world beyond it with its killers and muggers and gun-toting louts and everything else.

I slammed on the breaks,

"Uh, Dean?"

"Come on Princess, I'm takin' my girl to get somethin' to eat, before that way _too skinny_ frame of hers wastes away to nothin' an' all I'm towin' behind me is a trouble makin' bag of bones."

"But what about – what about – ,"

I wasn't sure how to put across my fear of being stabbed the moment we stepped out of the door, because it sounded insane or paranoid at best perhaps and yet was totally the image running wildly through my brain, like Cincinnati by night was full of crazy ghoulish monsters who roamed the blackened streets looking for people to attack and who were possibly lurking in every last shadow, hoping to add a burly wrestler to their tab, not to mention scare to death his hopeless fiancée who belonged in the watery rolling hills to the north.

Dean smirked a little,

"Come on baby, I'll look out for you an' I promise to only get a little bit stabbed, maybe not at all if the two of us are lucky and the Southside Knife Crew choose to stay in tonight."

I blinked,

"That – that's a gang you totally made up right?"

Dean pushed me ahead of him over the threshold,

"Let's find out."

Fortunately rather than take me back to the neighborhoods where the pair of us had spent the day looking for his mom, Dean instead headed out of the city before slinging us in a circle around the perimeter of the town with a pitstop on the way to pick up some fast food and which then burnt a hole into my lap through the bag as I blinked through the windshield and tried to fathom where we might end up or what the purpose of our sudden road trip was. Eventually however he turned us back towards the city in the direction of the old bridge I had noticed before, but then pulled off to take us right along the riverbank to which I let out a corresponding note of pleasure,

"Ooooh."

Dean snorted,

"Nice huh? I mean, it's not exactly a big lake an' mountains like you're used to, but in terms of fancy lookin' views an' whatever, I figure this is the probably the best the place has got."

He wasn't kidding on that point either because the location we had stopped at was an undeniably breath-taking one, positioned on the shoreline overlooking the city which was still lit up in spite of it being the middle of the night. In front of us the big skyscrapers from earlier had turned into softly blinking beacons of light and the streetlamps on the riverbank opposite shone warmly and so too did the bulbs hung on the bridge suspension coils. Put together they conspired to paint the most fantastically blurred canvas of inky blues and yellows in the wide waters in between, ebbing gently like frosted glass or mirrors but effortlessly soothing in the relative peace and quiet of the dark.

"It's soooo pretty."

"Come on," Dean pushed his door wide then grabbed up a sleeping bag he had thrown in the back, having nabbed it from the house as he had pushed me across the threshold but which at no point had I asked what we needed it for,

"Huh?"

"Bring the food."

I clambered out after him trying not to let our late dinner slip to the floor and then rounded the front of the rental frowning mildly to find him unzipping and then laying the sleeping bag out, throwing the thing over the hood of the sedan car and then vaulting up onto it and patting the space to his side, whereupon I may have grinned like an idiot and even squealed a little because frankly his plan was both romantic _and_ it rocked. Excitedly I planted a foot on the arch of the front wheel but then couldn't get further because my hands were full up and so Dean leaned across and took the food bags from me before holding out his fingers which I latched onto at once.

 _Eep_ –

I landed on the hood on my ass a little clumsily and my fiancé did the rest by pulled me across, propelling me in over the paintwork easily by hooking his thumb through the loops of my belt and then not stopping until I was huddled beneath his shoulder with my head tucked into his neck and my hair in his face. I hummed at him contentedly,

"This is like that scene in Coyote Ugly when she thinks he's into drugs but he actually likes comic books and then he takes her to a fish market in the morning."

"Uh, what?"

I snorted at him fondly,

"I'm guessing you've never seen that movie then? You know, I think you'd actually probably kinda like it because it has lots of woman stripping and being all sexy on bar tops."

"I've seen plenty 'a movies like _that_ baby."

"Dean – ,"

"Watched the real thing as well a couple of times."

"Ugh."

I slapped him mildly to show my displeasure but there wasn't any malice or frustration to the move, because even though it seemed unlikely that he was genuinely kidding, I also knew that he was trying to make me laugh and forget about the swirling levels of horror that had pretty much made up the rest of my day and it worked too because I snorted in amusement and then snuggled in deeper,

"You know what would make this view even better?"

"What's that Princess?"

"Some hot greasy fries."

Dean chuckled brightly but followed it up with the sounds of rustling as he fished our much needed food from its bags and then proceeded to trap a fry between his teeth with the end held out to me. I leaned up and nibbled in, laughing as I did and then ending on a kiss that was salty and gritty from the seasoning of the fries but which was still pretty perfect because when was smooching with him not ever anything less than the best thing in the world?

"Here," He passed across my burger in the interim and then the two of us sat back gazing out across the point and letting the summer breeze rustle through our hair gently as we ate in a quiet that was hopelessly content, or mostly at least –

"Dean?"

"I'm not fuckin' swappin' here, you wanted a chicken burger and that's what you've got so if you think I'm givin' you my double bacon cheese tower then you are gonna be pretty disappointed."

I bit my lip,

"Um, that's not what I was going to ask you."

"I told you to get a soda instead of milkshake too, but if you really wanna swap that then I guess that's not the worst thing."

I ignored him resolutely,

"What do I do about your mom? Because I know you're probably going to say to ignore her, but what happens tomorrow morning when I see her again? I mean, am I supposed to be happy or say nothing to her or do I apologize? I – I honestly don't have the first _idea_ of what to do."

Dropping his burger into his lap, he wound an arm around and then pillowed me briefly in towards his chest, before pressing a greasy little kiss to my brow line that I hurriedly wiped off again.

"You don't have to do shit."

"But I – ,"

"Princess, I mean it. Her being a bitch has nothin' to do with you, so you just keep on bein' perfect baby 'kay an' I'll make sure she plays nicer next time. An' if she doesn't then she and I are gonna have a talk about it, because nobody – but _nobody_ – upsets my best girl alright?"

I nodded then tried my best to think more positive, because after all in the morning it would be a brand new day and a second chance to convince my fiancé's unhappy mother that I was the girl her boy was made to be hitched to.

Easy right?

I only hoped it worked.

* * *

 **Next chapter there is a nice surprise for Lauren as she gets a real blast from the past and just to tease that more it is not a person! But naturally there is drama too AND more Mama Ambrose for your viewing pleasure!**


	12. What Are The Chances

**Okay so Dean has been boyfriend/fiance of the year many times but here he is in this one putting in a new claim to the title...hope you like!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Maybe Mama Ambrose just needs a hug? Hmmm. Maybe not then because I mean she does still have that untested right hook after all! Going to be some more Mama Ambrose coming up over the next few so let me know if things change!**

 **Mandy, I wish I could write more than one story in a week/at a time. When I'm writing a story I have to focus on it totally until it's finished or else I lose my thread! Glad you liked the cuteness of the last chapter. More Dean being awesome in this one too!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Aww many thanks, hope you like this one too because there's a bit of a twist to it or well…maybe not a twist but something unexpected…I hope anyway!**

 **Ohana1337, Well bubble wrap is certainly the way to go based on how much trouble Lauren tends to find herself in so that might actually be the best idea for her! Glad you like the two of them being all cute though and there's more here too…sweetness ahoy!**

 **Minnie1015, Mama Ambrose can smell weakness! Btw this is based on me when a colleague hated me years back because I was younger than her. I tried soooo hard to make her like me but eventually gave up and that's when she changed her mind! Lesson: less is more.**

 **Skovko, Dean has spent so long sticking his finger up to his mother that he's developed a tough skin that Lauren doesn't have. Our girl is a people pleaser born and bred. Still, she's got a few chapters to change the woman's mind (or try to!)**

 **Labinnacslove, Yep, Lauren is in a brand new world and she is going to have to adapt or perish...except, not quite that dramatic...or maybe it is?! Still, Mama Ambrose won't be making it easy on her in the least!**

 **Blast from the past then...**

* * *

 **What Are The Chances**

By the time we made it back to the apartment the clock had passed midnight and so we had tumbled into bed and then slept so heavily that when I had woken up the next morning, I sort of naturally assumed that my new in-law nemesis would be up and so therefore pulled my clothes on then stepped out with some reluctance into the kitchen area.

Dean was the only one there.

He was busy frying eggs in a beaten up skillet that looked like it had been used since the birth of time and on noticing me blinking into the lounge with hesitation, he snorted at me roughly,

"She won't be up for hours yet."

"Oh."

It sounded a lot more relieved than I had wanted and nor was that fact masked by my plopping heavily into a chair but then again the sense of having a reprieve felt fantastic and so I grinned as he propelled a plate of toast and eggs my way.

"Eat up Princess."

He looked totally adorable in his usually low slung and tantalizing denim jeans and with a brand new non-knife-slashed shirt whipped from his luggage. It was mostly plain grey with a slogan stamped across it that seemed to be promoting a spurious energy type drink and based on that I assumed it was a freebie he had been thrown by a company at a long distant point. He had a hoodie tied loosely about his little hipbones and then a baseball cap which he had inverted around, so that the peak protected the back of his neck from nothing except the hazy orange lights above where the oven hob was. He joined me at the table looking scruffy and unshaven and I beamed at him far too obviously.

"What?"

"Nothing," I shrugged, "Just remembering how much I love you."

"Rememberin' huh?" he threw me a wink and we then spent the rest of our breakfast lightly roasting one another about having spent the night in his teenage single bed which hadn't been the most roomy experience I had imagined and which had forced me into mostly sleeping draped over his chest and which for the purposes of humor he was bitching about bitterly,

"Those arms of yours have left marks on me _look_ an' I'm pretty sure you drooled on my chest at one point as well because when I woke up it sure felt kinda slick down there."

I reached across to collect his empty plate up,

"What made you think that was drool?"

"Jesus Christ."

In taking the plates to the sink to clean the place up since I had no intention of letting his mother think we lived like hogs, I chuckled a little which then spurred him into following me, since no sooner had I started to run the hot water than he was pressed up against me with my back to his ribs.

"Fuck, I was startin' to think that Cincinnati had scared off my dirty girl."

"Nope."

He blew a breath into my ear pretty suggestively and then nuzzled his nose against it,

"I'm glad to hear that."

In order to heighten his sense of arousal, I arched my back which pushed my butt against his groin. His fingers tightened around my hips in response to it and then he let out an actual guttural growl, trying to sound like some desperate hound dog and doing such a worthy impression that I tipped my head back laughed, then squeaked again when his lips found my neck line and began to blow out more ticklish breaths.

"Dean you big goof, stop – ,"

I reached a hand out and tried to push him backwards to no avail and so was still writhing pathetically against his probing onslaught and shrieking when the bedroom door opened.

Ooh crap.

His mother if it was even physically possible, looked worse than she had actually had done the night before, with make-up on her face that she had smeared against the pillow having evidently forgotten she had been wearing it at all and big blueish circles hanging underneath her eyelids that hinted at a lifetime of heavy drinking and late nights out.

My in-law glared at us both,

"You're too loud in the mornings, out here laughing and banging and shit."

I winced,

"Oh, I – I'm really sorry."

Nor was I even remotely lying on that point because I honestly felt like the worst person there was there, since not ten seconds before I had been stood in her kitchen trying to rile her only son up while she tried to rest less than fifteen away from us. I mean what kind of sexual deviant was I that I so wantonly disregarded other people's homes? Not to mention the fact that I hadn't even _considered_ that my fiancé's mother might be in a position to hear us both. Dean however seemed far less repentant and about ten times more sarcastic about it instead, simply leaning himself casually back against the countertop and folding his broad arms in over his chest,

"I see that full night sleep worked out well for you."

"Like you care,"

He shrugged back at her idly,

"You're right I don't."

It seemed like their fractured relationship from earlier had simply picked up from where they had left off and although in reality I should have left them to it, the awkward part of my brain couldn't leave the thing alone, since I hated confrontation in the best of occasions which was far from what the morning seemingly was and so therefore before I even knew what was happening I had turned into the room and was offering up a smile.

"Um, there are still some eggs left if you want them, I can put some toast in for you too if – ,"

Uh oh.

Her eyes spun in towards me super extra sharply as if for a brief moment she had forgotten I was there and then they narrowed into something pretty harshly appraising but made me stand still, frozen on the spot. Instantly I wished I hadn't said anything since the woman had hated me enough outright the night before and I honestly had no idea whether her opinions on me would worsen or else get mildly better for her booze soaked mind being cleared. Reaching a hand into the pocket of the robe that she had thrown on over the top of her thin gown, she pulled free a lighter and then fished out a box of cigarettes from underneath a newspaper on the table by her chair. In the time it took to blink, she had the blunt between her tight lips and was covering the flame that had newly burst into life but managed to get no further in her mission since Dean reached over the paper and ripped the cancer stick away.

His mother reacted,

"What the hell are you doing boy?"

"Not in front of Lauren."

"Are you fucking shitting me?"

It was something that Dean had been pretty resolute on from the moment to two of us had officially moved in, because he felt like my lungs were too pure to be sullied by nicotine and tar and other horrible things and which had probably not been helped by me almost hacking a lung up when I had inhaled an accidental breath of smoke one time. Honestly it was simply another example of his being perfect but suffice to say it went down badly with his mom.

"This is my house – ,"

"An' she's my fiancée, so you can bitch an' you can scream but you wanna smoke, you go outside."

For a second I thought it was entirely possible that she might have had an aneurysm right there and then, since her face registered little but unflinching outrage, but it turned out she was merely letting the phrasing sink in, because suddenly the thinly plucked eyebrows flickered my way,

"So it's true then? You're the girl my boy finally proposed to?"

I swallowed in total apprehension,

"Uh huh."

"Then allow me to ask you a little question here sweetheart, were you two ever gonna tell me 'bout the engagement or was the plan for me to hear it live along with everyone else in the world?"

Her gaze burnt through me and I gaped at her.

 _Oh no_.

I was the reason she was so wildly pissed off because I was the idiot who had yelled across the broadcast that Dean and I were officially engaged and which the woman in front of me had evidently been watching and which had pretty unsurprisingly then caught her unawares. Little wonder then that she had hated me at first sight and was continuing to make me feel an inch from the ground, because she probably thought I was some loudmouth harlot who had ensnared her poor son and made him disregard his mom.

I hurried to make it right,

"No, no – oh god – I'm so, so sorry. It wasn't meant to be like that. I – I just got so heated in the moment that I said without meaning to and – of _course_ we wanted you to know."

"Ha."

His mother blew the sound out with derision and in sheer desperation I looked towards Dean, who simply made a minute but comforting little shushing noise and then took my arm like he was trying to lead me away. Probably he knew that if he left me a moment longer I would have offered the frowning woman more than just leftover eggs and been halfway through hand squeezing her some fresh orange juice or my own blood before any of the three of us knew where we were.

He kept his tone even,

"Princess, how about you finish gettin' ready huh? Remember me promisin' to take you shoppin' for the day, hittin' up that market you said you liked the look of?"

"But – ,"

"No buts baby, get movin' for me."

He prodded me towards the bathroom like we were late for an appointment and I went with it panicking but also in a haze, that lasted right up to him throwing a cheerful wink at me before then levering the door shut with a pretty solid little click. What had just happened? I asked the question internally then stood for a moment trying to fight the tears back because crying wasn't going to do much of anything to help me and nor would feeling sorry help to smooth the waters out. Presuming that there were still any waters left to smooth that was –

Probably there was only a trickle at best.

Damn.

Heaving a sigh out I tried to be useful by attempting to follow through on what my fiancé had asked, but found it hard to paint on my makeup accurately since my hands were still sort of trembling in pure shock. Not that my surroundings were particularly inspiring, since the bathroom was small and possibly not the most clean and stacked to the rafters with various types of pill pots and razor blades that were for men but which didn't belong to Dean.

"Mom," I looked up at the ceiling in pleading, "Please make her like me, I know I've messed it all up, but if you could somehow let her know I'm not a horrible person then that would be great."

I missed her so much.

Particularly when being faced down by a woman who I had entertained crazy thoughts of maybe being the one to plug the hole but which was looking about as likely as hell freezing over or pigs beginning to fly like planes through the atmosphere. Huffing a final breath out I finished with some blusher and then turned to reluctantly push back through out the door and into whatever heated brawl was awaiting me before stopping when I realized that if I stood quietly then I could hear.

Dean especially,

"What the hell is your problem mom? You can't be nice to her for five minutes here?"

"You want me to crawl up her ass?"

I hoped not because that sounded uncomfortable to say the very least and nor did her idea strike Dean very happily since he continued to snarl,

"You haven't said more than ten words."

"So you want me to pretend and tell you I like her when she's been looking down her nose at me from the moment she arrived?"

 _Ouch_.

Her words caught me much like a gut punch and I even let out a shocked little gasp, which I then hurriedly clamped with my hand to stop it from carrying but which continued to rumble on with a deeply lingering hurt, because how in the world could she think I had been judging her when all I had been trying to do was somehow help us get along? Maybe I had a bad resting bitch face I had never known about or a permanent sneer no one had ever brought up? Luckily however my man was still fighting hard for me and it carried in his tones,

"She fuckin' has not."

"I'm not a total idiot boy, I can see it."

"Then in that case all the drugs have finally gotten to your head mom, because trust me when I say that she is the least – like – _judgey_ person you're probably ever gonna fuckin' meet in your life. I mean, she even got kidnapped by a cult leader hillbilly an' felt sorry for the guy because she thought he needed friends, so you if you really think she's thinkin' you're any type of _anythin'_ then you're totally wrong because you don't know her at all, so I'm warnin' you now to stop playin' hard ball."

His mother sounded eerily defiant,

"Or you'll what?"

Deciding that the tension was again reaching a tipping point, I chose that moment to step back into the room, calling on all the acting prowess in my retinue to pretend like I hadn't been listening into the fractious words and also trying not to spider monkey to my fiancée for always, always having my back.

I tried to smile brightly across the space,

"I'm all ready."

Dean stepped in towards me at once, moving his hand over the small of my spinal cord in a hold that was both guiding and reassuring all at once.

"Sure thing Princess, let's get the fuck outta here."

He turned me round in the direction of the front door and the streets that I hoped were a whole lot less frightening for once again being bathed in warming sunlight and which I also hoped were far too early for the booze addled and drugged up population of the city to be out, but who still posed a genuinely far better option in terms of a welcome than his still glaring mom. In spite of that though, I paused on the threshold and then wet my lips as I tried to make amends,

"Um, we – we're heading to the market, is there anything we can get you?"

Her baggy eyes sneered,

"No thanks _Princess_ why not get something for your own damn mom?"

Dean blew out a sharp breath from behind me like someone had popped him like a deflating balloon and he then stepped forward like he was going to erupt at her and which he led with a single and well used piece of terminology,

"Fuck."

I caught his arm before he managed to get further, keeping my own tone impeccably calm but pretty much vibrating apart on the inside because _holy hell_ was her sentence ever a bruising one or a perhaps a little like being stabbed by a knife edge.

Nevertheless –

"Um, actually my mom died a year ago, it's the anniversary in a little over two weeks time now and so even though I would really, really love too – trust me on that one, I really, _really_ would – unfortunately those days of buying presents for my mom are over and I know that they're never coming back, but if there's anything _you_ would like then I'll be sure to pick it up for you."

It was the first time I had seen her truly speechless since we'd arrived and for a moment I wondered if I hadn't somehow broken her, but eventually she then shook her head a little.

"No."

Her gaze looked suspicious though, like she was caught between not believing me and potentially feeling horrendously bad.

"Okay then," I nodded, "In that case we'll be back later."

I turned at that point and strode shakily through the door, swallowing down a lump of what I hoped was adrenaline as the light of the morning almost blinded me outright but at least took me away from the appraisingly blinking woman who had never been very likely to fall in love with me anyway but who I had then managed to totally stump from out of nowhere, which had probably revoked my few remaining brownie points straight off.

Crap.

"Princess? Hey – ,"

Dean caught up with me kerbside when I ground to a halt beside our rental car, fingers clenched in too tightly around the handle as I tried to figure out all the spinning in my head and knowing it he turned me carefully towards him and then planted a proud little smack on my lips.

I mumbled across it,

"Now she's going to _really_ hate me."

"Yeah maybe, but if it helps I love you more, because I gotta tell you baby, that was pretty kickass."

"It was?"

He unlocked the doors,

"Come on are you kiddin' me? I fuckin' love it when you get all feisty like that."

"Even with your mom?"

He kissed me again and then winked at me roguishly before tucking me into the passenger seat, helping to ease me in through my bewilderment with his usual guiding touch,

" _Especially_ with her."

"Oh."

In total it took us about twenty minutes to make it into town where the market was being held and the moment we stepped into the row of little pop-ups and brightly painted stalls, I felt like I was home. Mostly the offerings were locally produced and food based and so for the first forty minutes I pretty much sampled away the hurt until I was waddling I had inhaled so many cheese offerings and tiny bites of candy and artisanal breads. Dean ate too, but mostly laughed at me, which I found a little confusing and so frowned at him,

"What?"

He shrugged back coolly,

"S' just fuckin' nice to see you happy."

I wound my arm through his and then gave him a kiss, planting it squarely in over his cheek bone and then further rewarding him with another solid beam, because possibly for the first time since we had hit his home city, I had genuinely found a place where I belonged and frankly where I could have remained forever since every last street and shop front caught my eye.

"Oooh, antiques stall."

I rapidly untangled myself from the loving embrace of his ever solid arm before bustling over to the cloth covered table and beginning to scan everything I could find.

It was one of those stands that was littered with trinkets and earrings and necklaces and little silver things and so was therefore precisely the type of fare to loved to sift through like an overgrown magpie attracted to all the bling. Dean snorted at me then turned back to a record stall to continue leafing through the copious LPs and then tried to make out like he wasn't really with me as I began to pick things up with admiring ooh's and aah's. I filtered my way along the little table eagerly for the first few minutes – foraging like a squirrel through the pretty stuff – then stopped in amazement like I had been struck by a bolt of lightning while at the same time breathing out a very _un-me_ word.

"Fuck."

Beside me a man who had been browsing through the items, blinked at me in a measure of surprise, then cleared his throat as I blushed in embarrassment and tried to find the right words to explain. But there were none, because lying on the table in front of me on a blue velvet cloth was a tiny earring with a cameo, that showed the pale white features of a woman turned sideways surrounded by scalloping as well and a carefully bent hook all of which was set on a purple background that looked achingly familiar.

"That – that belonged to my mom, I – I know I would recognize it anywhere. Oh my god, I can't believe it. I was so convinced that it would always be lost."

My brain felt like it was bursting with fireworks and more genuine excitement than I had felt since Dean proposed, because how had the earring wound up there of all places and perhaps more importantly, where the hell had it been? I launched from the table through the crowd like a maniac, bellowing breathlessly,

"Dean, _Dean_ – ,"

"Princess what's wrong?" he caught me by the elbows clearly expecting all hell to have broken loose and in return I pointed at the stall with a shaky finger and an incoherent sentence,

"It – it's my mom."

"What?"

"She – her – ,"

"Lauren? Hey take a breath for me."

Not able to make him understand my mad babble, I simply grabbed his arm and towed him along behind, which ended when I sort of propelled him at the table and then furnished my crazy gabble by throwing in a desperate point.

" _Look_."

"At what?"

"At the – ," I turned then let my mouth fall open in conjunction with a stone dropping into my gut, because the little patch of velvet where I could have sworn the earring had been was instead was looking back blankly at me, "No, it – it's gone."

I stifled a snuffle.

Maybe I had somehow dreamed it all up? I mean, I _had_ been thinking a lot about my mother and thanks to the disaster that was my in-law relationship, perhaps it was no wonder I was going insane.

"Princess, you okay?"

I opened my mouth to answer, or else to press miserably up against his chest but then stopped at the sound of a rustling of money and a familiar flash of purple somewhere off to my right. In a second I was again looking straight at my mother's earring but being held in the hand of the man I had loudly sworn beside and who was seemingly in the process of actually buying it and who I tore towards feeling panicky,

"Hey, that's mine."

Hard green eyes turned back towards me, framed beneath a sneer.

"I think you'll find that it's mine, given that I just paid good money for it."

"Lauren?" Dean stepped in closely behind, unsurprisingly sounding pretty massively bewildered, but he stopped when his eyes fell on the item in the hand, whereupon he blew a pretty stunned sounding breath out and blinked a little, "Fuck, is that – ?"

Yeah.

Hell yeah.

In response to the continued cold hard gaze of the man in front of us though and his seeming reluctance to give the earring up, I groped around my neck for the missing piece of the puzzle that Dean had converted into a pendant seven months back and which I pulled out frantically to prove that I was the owner and not a crazy person.

"I – I have the other one, look, my mom lost it a year back and we tried everything to find it, so maybe if you could – ,"

"No."

Dean frowned at the all-out sharpness of the answer, not liking it one bit.

"Hey watch it man, this isn't a fuckin' shake down we're tryin' 'a pull here, so be reasonable alright? We'll buy the thing back. I mean, how much did you pay for it?"

He was already reaching into his pocket for the wallet and cash he had tucked away inside and in the moment I was so relieved for having his level head with me that I could have turned round and kissed him right there, but didn't since my brain was pretty much a swirling vomit-mix of excitement, bewilderment and total relief. I was so freaking close to having a part of my mom back and it made me want to dance.

Hard green eyes blinked,

"Fifty dollars."

"Alright man," Dean nodded, then briskly began to count the bills out, only to find himself rapidly halted as our brand new nemesis offered up a toothy grin,

"But I won't be selling it for any less than five hundred."

"You fuckin' _what_ now?" Dean barked back in shock as his hackles rose then bristled in warning and as his blue eyes sparked in murderous throes. For my own part I merely stared back pretty stupidly while letting my mouth fall open and then closed, because I had literally told the guy how important to me the earring was to me and he was using that against us to make a quick buck.

Remorselessly.

He shrugged,

"Take it or leave it man, but I figure this thing is pretty valuable to your girl, so if you wanna make her happy then that's what it's gonna cost you."

Dean stepped forward hotly,

"You scum-sucking son of a no good – ,"

I grabbed him and then rapidly inserted myself between them, knowing that the chances of my fiancée lashing out at him were building like a bubbling soda stream of rage and not wanting him arrested for punching the guy unconscious but also secretly liking how suddenly frightened the man looked.

"Dean," I pleaded, my heart beating wildly as I forced the bitter words out, "Let him have it – it's okay."

"No it isn't Lauren."

He was right about that part since the thought of leaving my strongest memory of my mother in the hands of an asshole was almost more than I could bear, but it still wasn't enough to risk Dean getting in trouble because he was my priority and always would be.

Luckily however, I was his too.

He grumbled then rifled through the bills in his wallet before looking up, still angry but at least a measure more calm.

"I've got two hundred on me here and that's it man, take it or leave it."

I totally held my breath, convinced that the guy was going to hold out for a fortune and that I would have to turn and walk myself away. Fortunately however the fact that Dean was wearing denims that had holes in the kneecaps that were not of the fashion kind, evidently convinced the guy that we were unlikely to be millionaires because he grinned pretty suddenly and then swiped the held out cash.

"Deal,"

He practically tossed the earring at me and I caught it clumsily and then hauled it to my chest, holding it like I had just caught a baby that had been flung from a building that was licking with flames, then tearing up a little because the sensation was powerful and my head was still spinning from it even being there.

It felt like my mom was sending me a message.

 _Honey, you're going to be okay_.

By the time I looked up again, the asshole guy had vanished, probably with a none-too-subtle click of his heels too based on the look Dean was wearing on his features, which was equal parts pissed at having had to lose the money and murderous at the guy for having tried to play me. He turned towards me to make sure I wasn't shaken and I responded by moving closer then hugging him tight, whispering into his chest in adoration and lifelong gratitude,

"Thank you so, so, so, _so_ much."

He grunted a mildly but then brushed my hair out as he settled his fractious mood again, before snorting very lightly in a wry sounding amusement that made everything okay.

"Let's call it compensation for puttin' up with my mom."

* * *

 **Next chapter things come to head with Mama Ambrose and an unwelcome visitor comes to call but probably won't be who you think it is...presuming you're thinking what I'm thinking you're thinking and not thinking what I'm not thinking...**


	13. Fighting With Fire

**Time for Lauren to try again with Mama Ambrose! Happy Extreme Rules Eve by the way. Still optimistically hoping for a mega surprise Dean return but it is a distant hope at this point. Hope it's a good one though!**

 **Skovko, Yep, the earring was always going to pop back up at some point because it was way too tantalizing to leave it hanging in the open! Haha, I think punching is too much work for Mama Ambrose especially if she doesn't get a drink at the end of it (but there is a punch though!)**

 **Mandy, Aww, glad you liked it. Dean was totally going for fiancé of the year in that one but of course he knew how much it meant to Lauren so didn't hesitate for a second. He is too good! Lauren is finding her feet with Mama Ambrose too…more of that here!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Oooh nice guess, but nope, it's not Hunter and Randy (can you imagine what they would think about Dean's hometown in their swanky suits? Lol!) But it is someone we've met before if only briefly. Read on to find out who!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, I know, the guy saw a chance to make some money and went for it even though Lauren's earring wasn't his. Still there's always someone who's willing to try and make a buck. Guess he's lucky Dean paid up and didn't hit him lol!**

 **Minnie1015, Lauren is going to do even more sticking up for herself in this one (against various people to be honest). But yeah, when she has to the girl can speak her mind even if it does sometimes turn into mindless babble! Ballsy Lauren coming right up!**

 **Labinnacslove, I think the earring got there by fate. Someone found it and sold it to an antiques shop then it got sold on and again until it ended up right where it needed to be! See, more proof that going to Dean's hometown wasn't the worst idea in the world (until this chapter maybe!)**

 **Moxley Gal, Aww, happy birthday for yesterday! Sorry I didn't update but I've got two stories on the go being posted on the same day and if I skip one or change one up I'll get myself all confused! Hope you had a lovely day though with loads of cake!**

 **ShieldGirlBecky, If you liked Lauren being badass in the last one, I think you'll like this chapter too. Also Mama Ambrose is in it so expect some sparks! Dean was pretty amazing in the last chapter but there's still time in this story for him to be even more brilliant *hints at things to come***

 **Rebel8954, Mama Ambrose sure is something else! Bit more of her in this chapter too but hopefully she's not totally beyond saving...okay, she totally is but Lauren can at least try and build some bridges! Hope the move and new job are working out!**

 **Here comes Mama Ambrose...**

* * *

 **Fighting With Fire**

Perhaps predictably when we returned from the market with both of my mom's earrings newly and happily in tow, my soon to be in-law had been notably missing and so therefore – I assumed – had trotted back out for more booze. I looked towards Dean a little tentatively in response to it,

"Do you want to go out looking again? Because it's fine if you do. I can stay here maybe, or get into the footwell whenever you go into a bar?"

I wasn't even making false platitudes either since it was absolutely my role to help however I could, besides which he had just shelled his hard earned cash out for me in order that I could bring my own mother back close and so therefore the least I could do was return the favor. Even if it meant being hunkered and feeling terrified in the shadowy bowels of our old rental car, trying to dodge the inhabitants of the city who preferred to be out under the cover of dark.

 _Eep_.

Dean however blew a heavy sounding breath out and then shook his head, looking both weary and hugely pissed, which I figured was probably from a lifetime of such antics and which his following huffed out statement then proved right,

"You know what? Not this time. Done this fuckin' dance plenty an' I'm all outta patience."

He ran his hand through his hair and then swiped it over his face pretty roughly as he rubbed at his features like he was trying to smudge them off. I tiptoed up and trapped it between my fingers,

"How can I make this better?"

"Don't think you can, I mean you just – like – _bein'_ here makes it fuckin' better but you can't change the way she is y' know? My mom is just my mom."

I looked up sadly,

"So then what's the plan handsome?"

Having learned from the previous evening we had taken the opportunity to have dinner out, besides which the both of us were still loaded up on samples and had a whole bag of goodies I had bought throughout as well. Dean sighed again but then pulled me towards him and grumbled into the long brown tangle of my hair, obviously feeling emotionally battered in a way that I hated,

"Let's just fuckin' go to bed."

"Okay."

I turned to lead him into the bedroom like a mother shepherding her over-tired child but stopped as he pulled on my hand just a little and then grinned at me wearily,

"Maybe we'll watch that film."

"What film?"

"The porn one you said about earlier with the girls on the bar top."

I bit back a smile,

"It's not a porn film, it's a sweet romantic comedy."

He held up his hands,

"As long as there's strippin' involved then I'm in."

Rolling my eyes I tried my best to look reproachful but as he walked past and goosed me the censure tailed off as instead I let out a squeak of amusement then followed him in to get ready for bed.

" _Dean_ – ,"

Naturally being a man it took him less than three minutes to shuck from his clothes and re-ruffle his hair which meant that by the time I had changed and headed into the tiny bathroom to take off my make-up he already had Netflix up and had tracked down the movie and about three replacement options that were very much of the band wagon full-on porno style and which I then had to convince him was likely _not_ a better option before he offered up a grin and thankfully chose the proper film.

"Leann Rimes sang the soundtrack."

"You're not makin' this sound sexy."

I slapped his chest lightly as the titles rolled,

"Shush."

Being that we were once again crammed into his teenage single bed, we were forced to lie like a bizarre deck of cards, with him on his back propping the tablet on his midriff, with me squashed beside the wall with my head under his neck and using his abs like a glorious arm rest but which was hugely romantic and snuggly and _close_. I wasn't sure at what point he fell asleep on me, but when I looked across about a half an hour from the ending in response to his heavy breathing he was out for the count and I smiled at his beautiful contented little features before taking the tablet and turning it off, then finishing with a kiss that he barely even stirred at and a tiny little whisper,

"Goodnight Dean."

He slept pretty heavily from that point onwards and clearly needed to, since not even what I hoped was his mother stumbling in again at about half past three managed to properly wake him up, which was pretty impressive since she tripped over something and upended a saucepan with a veritable crash. I flinched and then waited, but after pausing very mildly he simply went back to his heavy breathing thing again, while I lay wide awake, listening to the sounds of grumpy mumbling and cursing and possible pain floating in from outside.

Crap.

I knew I had to go and check up on her, because what if she had fallen and maybe hurt herself or had possibly broken something either bone-based or culinary that she was then far too wasted and hammered to clean back up? Extracting myself from Dean wasn't easy because his arm had been braced protectively over my back, essentially pinning me to his chest like a teddy bear and so I had to reverse on my hands and knees out, inching like some sort of idiotic lizard in a desperate attempt not to accidentally wake him up and nearly tumbling clean off the mattress as I came across the bottom far sooner than I had thought.

"Whoops."

Luckily I thankfully managed to right myself before I tumbled over onto the floor, which would probably have woken up Dean in an instant since he had an inbuilt radar for whenever I was about to come to harm. Groping in the darkness for our carefully packed cases, I seized up then slid on my light summer robe, tying it tightly to hide my loose vest top before pausing for a second, taking a breath and then stepping out. His mother was on her hands and knees in the kitchen and I blinked –

Uh oh.

Not a positive start but in spite of that I kept on going, shivering a little as my bare feet hit the floor, then stopping to pull the bedroom door closed behind me and taking care not to let the lock or handle let out a click. I wasn't really sure what the hell I was doing and that became apparent as I moved tentatively in, folding my arms vulnerably over one another and then whispering a little,

"Um are you okay?"

Mama Ambrose whipped up much like I had shot her – or perhaps more possibly – like she might have shot me and then clutched her heart in outright panic before blowing an angry breath out,

"Holy crap girl."

I winced at her regretfully,

"I'm really sorry but I heard a sort of a _crash_ and I wanted to make sure you hadn't hurt yourself out here or that you didn't need any help clearing up anything."

"I'm fine."

Her blunt tones left little room for discussion and at first glance nothing seemed to look too out of place and so I tried to brush off the continued resentment with a false little smile and then a throwaway shrug,

"Oh – um – okay, then I guess I'll see you in the morning."

I was halfway back across the space to the bedroom in a weirdly tiptoed walk when I heard her breathe out a sigh then clamber to her feet with no small amount of effort before grumbling at me,

"Lauren right?"

"Uh huh."

"Pull up a seat kid," Mama Ambrose gestured towards the table and I paused for a moment not sure I wanted to accept since I literally had no idea what she might say to me or if she might try to threaten me or upset me or cause more hurt, but which her hazy looking eyes were sharp enough to pick up on as she snorted a little wryly, "I promise not to bite this time."

 _Haha_.

Instead of throwing that back at her however, I managed what I hoped was a pleasant little nod and then inched myself into a chair at the table like I expected to find it had been padded by grenades. Fortunately it was not. His mother slid in opposite then moved to hook a cigarette up, before remembering the earlier insistence and sneering,

"Do you mind?"

"Um, no."

But my hesitance meant everything and surprisingly she sighed but then let her shaking calloused hand drop back and instead began to idly pick at the table top in the same itchy-fingered way that her son frequently did and which I therefore assumed was an inherited sort of restlessness that all of the Ambrose kin must have shared but which also underlined with startlingly reality that I was trying to build a relationship with my fiancé's _mother_ here.

My next words would be important.

"I bought you some taffy – um – there was a stall giving away samples and I tried a whole bunch and then bought you some of the – uh – the salted caramel because it tasted the nicest – or – I mean, at least I thought it did."

His mother blinked back at me randomly.

"You what now?"

In response I stood uncertainly and headed into the kitchen, where the multitude of bags from the shopping trip had been parked up and which I then began to clumsily sort through, pushing aside packs of candy and some salami before producing her present in a small cardboard box which had the label of the individual taffy-maker on it in a way that highlighted how home-made it was and which I then turned back to her holding out like a doctorate or maybe a trove of long lost Incan gold. Despite Dean insisting that his mother hadn't needed or _deserved_ anything from our afternoon out, I had still been determined to buy a peace offering but had panicked and bought her the taffy instead. I wasn't even sure she even liked that kind of thing and – pretty unhelpfully – neither had he, so I had taken the chance and snaffled a box up in the hopes it would work to smooth our familial wrinkles out.

Instead it only seemed to confuse her.

"Why in the hell would you buy something for me girl?"

I shrugged,

"Because it's what I was taught. My mom always said that if you stayed in someone's house or were invited to a person's home then you needed to bring a gift and because this whole trip was kind of _thrown_ at me I didn't have the time to get anything before now."

His mother raised a brow,

"Your mama taught you that huh? Guessing you must be pretty like her?"

"I – I hope so."

"The two of you were close then?"

My answer came out a little bit shaky but I forced it through regardless of that, not entirely sure why the woman was asking but all too happy to give her whatever she needed to know,

"She was my best friend."

Mama Ambrose blew a sigh out and for a second I couldn't tell if it was a sound of frustration or else a noise of sympathy or some complex mix of both and so I simply stood in silence holding out the box of taffy which she eventually swiped from my hesitant hand with a grunt. Pulling the folds open she unwrapped a candy and then wasted little time throwing it into her mouth, probably because it fought the need down for a cigarette and so I was pleased that my tasty treat had a positive use. Even if it possibly wasn't exactly to her liking –

"Too damn sweet."

"Oh."

"Not the taffy Princess. I mean _you_ – buying me shit and thanking me for staying and making my kid fall over himself in love. 'Bout figure it will break him into a million pieces when it all falls apart."

I blinked at her,

"What?"

"When it all falls apart," she shot back idly as she stuffed some more taffy into her face and either ignored or else fully missed the outrage which flashed across my features as I goldfished back,

"It won't."

"Yeah _sure_ it won't sweetheart."

My fists clenched up hotly at her lack of belief,

"It won't because I love your son more than I've ever loved anyone and he's given me everything that I could ever possibly want and he makes me feel like I'm actually worth something and – ,"

"But what about when you get tired of his crazy ass world? I mean this city isn't no place for a pretty little country girl and the way I see it is that one day you'll realize that and leave him in the dust and break his damn heart and when you do, that boy will hit self destruct mode and then no one will be able to drag him outta the hole. You're too damn fragile and helpless and _innocent_ to make this last."

I may have frowned at her a bit –

Possibly even a lot as I gaped irately and began to feel myself getting slowly churned up, because how in the world could she suddenly claim to know me when she had spent the past day trying to pretend I wasn't there or from watching a television show for a couple of hours? She simply had no right to try and tell me who I was.

I scowled at her passionately,

"Look, I know you don't know me and that maybe you're upset someone has stolen your baby boy, because someone told me that there's this _thing_ with sons and mothers and – well, anyway, that isn't important now – but what _is_ important is that since starting with the company and first meeting Dean I've become someone else and okay, so maybe that person isn't the smartest and is totally not the bravest a lot of the time but I have still been through not one, but _two_ separate kidnappings, full on murder attempts and being hit in the head. I have been grabbed and groped and leered at and threatened but I'm still here and _no one_ is going to scare me away. Randy Orton tried to and failed hopelessly at it and that's how I know you're going to fail too, so to summarize then, I suggest you eat your taffy, maybe thank me for it a little and accept that I love your son."

 _Phew_.

I finished with an actual bodily inhale as I remembered that at no point had I actually paused for breath and so therefore was starting to blink little spots of blackness that I was keen to get rid of since passing out in front of her would have been a bad look. In fact maybe the whole thing had been bad in _general_ because she blinked coolly back at me and it made me gulp.

Not good.

Eventually however she blew another snort out and although it was derisive it was mildly impressed too and either way devoid of the right hook I had been warned about and which I had momentarily totally been expecting to arrive.

"Well would you look at that," she spat out in mild amusement, "Maybe you do have some balls after all."

"Um – ,"

I was opening my mouth to respond to _that_ somehow when the bedroom door creeped open and a figure stumbled slowly out, with copper hair mussed and utterly adorably as his gorgeous baby blues blinked into the light.

"Princess? What in the hell is goin' on out here – fuck – you alright?"

Evidently he had woken to the sound of low voices and on finding the bed empty had then feared the worst and staggered through assuming that his mother was trying to kill me or was packing my bags for me and trying to force me onto the street. Instead she was sitting stress eating balls of homemade taffy in the clothes from the day before while I stood awkwardly by the stove.

His mother snorted,

"I told the girl before, I don't bite people."

"Yeah? Because there's about three or four boyfriends who I'm pretty sure would disagree and then there was that fucker that you tried to stab with the screwdriver – ,"

Wow.

Had I known _that_ before I would have never talked back, especially since the new remembering of the shanking made the older woman in front of us smile and then chuckle a little like she had forgotten all about it but appreciated the trip down memory lane. Dean looked up and let his hazy blues burn through me, searching for any signs of obvious harm and it warmed me to the point that I flashed a smile back at him and bit a quick bubble of adoration down,

"I'm fine."

"You sure about that?"

"Uh huh, we're all peachy."

He snorted a little like he thought that was a lie and perhaps it both was and wasn't simultaneously because while I still wasn't best buddies with his mother, it felt like some sort of equilibrium had tipped and which she further enhanced by looking up briefly and eyeing me shrewdly,

"We were having a little girl chat is all."

Dean lifted an eyebrow but then beckoned me towards him as he stifled a yawn, clearly hoping to hustle us back off into bed again before the mood could crumble or something else could go wrong but which had probably been doomed to failure from the outset since that had never really been how our lives had worked out and so was therefore the reason there was a sudden loud banging and then angry sounding shouting that bled in through the front door,

"Hey, you in there? I know you are. I want my stuff back."

Dean blinked in startled confusion,

"The hell?"

I even flinched a little at the pounding since I was the one stood closest to the sound and then realized that looking frightened undermined my earlier ballsiness and so instead tried to look like it hadn't bothered me at all.

His mother seemed not to notice,

"Damn."

"Mom, who is it?"

In response she clambered to her feet like they were lead and then rolled her eyes which served as a refusal, before moving towards the door like she was going to open it up but in the end only pressing her thin lips to it and bellowed back through testily,

"Go home Eric, I ain't talking until you've sobered the fuck up."

Eric thumped louder, not pleased by the reception,

"You god damn bitch, you gimme my pills back."

"Mom?" Dean growled the word out fiercely and then furnished it further by raising his brow and tensing his jaw the way he did when he was angry and walking a fine line between staying calm and throwing a punch, "Did he say just say pills? What the fuck did you do this time?"

His mother waved a hand at him,

"Please, it's something and nothing that's all."

"Not to him it's not," Dean emphasized hotly as our new friend Eric began to shoulder charge the front door, or tried it once anyway and then reeled off swearing before banging his fists again,

"You got 'bout ten seconds before I bust my way in there."

Realistically it was probably more like ten years except thankfully no one chose to correct him since he seemed to be having a hard enough time as it was. Mama Ambrose rolled her eyes however and from that I deduced that Eric possibly wasn't all there or frequently trampled round to swear through the woodwork like it was maybe some crazy little ritual they had.

"Mom – ,"

"Look I _may_ have taken a bag from him, but it was only because I know what the man is like and I knew if he had them he would probably get caught with them and end up getting his ass thrown in jail."

Dean snorted,

"Sure, because you're a real good Samaritan."

Eric tried to ram his heated way in again but failed and evidently thinking the whole thing was pitiful or keen to not wake the neighbors, my nearly-mother-in-law sighed and then reluctantly crossed the room before unbolting the catches and throwing the door wide sounding frustrated,

"What you idiot?"

Oh god.

Looking back at her was the same guy from earlier who had tried his best to slash Dean with his knife before turning tail and running like he had been physically scalded but who was suddenly right in front of me. How in the world was he there and how in the world did Mama Ambrose know him? Dean expressed those thoughts a bit more audibly,

"Holy fuck – ,"

In response to the bark the eponymous Eric blinked up and then squinted through the orange kitchen lights and I could almost see the cogs in his brain vibrating and grinding through the rust layers before clicking into place. It took perhaps a couple of seconds, but when recognition came, it hit him like a bolt and he breathed out a noise that was a mix of several cuss words then let his eyes fall open like he had spotted a ghost,

" _You_ guys?"

Dean's mother blinked,

"How in the hell do you know each other?"

Dean snorted wryly,

"We met the fucker yesterday when he was threatenin' Lauren and then he tried to slash me when I told him to move on, he thought he got me too, that's why he's over there all fuckin' nervous – ,"

His mother turned with fury towards her friend,

"You knifed my kid?"

In many ways I briefly felt sorry for Eric because he genuinely looked like a rabbit in headlights, since not only was he facing down his formerly-thought murder victim but also the testy mother as well, which I had to assume was the worst part of that equation.

Eric shook his head,

"I didn't – give me my fuckin' pills."

"If you're gonna hurt my son then you don't even deserve them."

It was actually quite nice to see her rallying for her boy and filled me at once with a warmth for the family that I hadn't been able to conjure until that point, but which then rapidly died as Eric reached his crescendo and then essentially toppled clean over the edge. Blowing out a hot cuss he suddenly burst forwards, pushing the older woman roughly aside and then launching for me with such a total lack of warning that I barely even had enough time to scream or breathe.

Dean barked sharply,

"Lauren – ,"

But it didn't make a difference because Eric already had his arm around my neck, pulling me towards him so that I bounced against his sweatshirt and then holding me firm as he pulled out the knife. Instantly my stomach flipped over in situ and I shut my eyes and let a tiny squeak out because even though he hadn't extended the blade part he could have done in a heartbeat with a flick of his wrist.

 _Oh no, oh no_.

Both Dean and his mother froze in uncertainty in the middle of the room, although for my part I only had eyes for my fiancé and his look of pure fury which helped keep me calm –

Mildly.

Behind me and right beside my earlobe, Eric suddenly bellowed and the volume made me jump and then let loose a shudder because his arm was wrapped so tightly that I could smell his body odour and the liquor on his breath.

"Give me my pills, give them to me now, or I swear to god – ,"

Dean barked sharply,

"Hey, take it easy man – mom?"

But the woman in front of us seemed unfortunately reluctant to step in and help to save my ass and I could have sworn that she actually rolled her eyes a little before throwing her hands up like a sullen teen,

" _Fine_."

Plodding across the room she reached into the pocket of the beaten up coat hanging over a chair, then rummaged around before pulling a zip-lock bag out that was rattling with a good handful of tiny white pills. I had no idea what they were or what might have been in them considering that I had only seen illicit drugs at school and only then when the police had come around to give talks on them and had passed around pictures of the type of things we might find. Not that I actually had the time or the awareness to think about any of that part too hard, considering that a knife-wielding maniac was pinning me and by all accounts was mentally falling apart.

Dean's mother paused for a second,

"Ugh, take it – ,"

In watching the little bag get thrown suddenly towards us Eric peered up and the arm around my neck dropped away as he tried to figure out how he was going to catch his substances with both of his overly meaty hands already full. I bit my lip in response to the falter because it seemed like the moment to try and do something brave. Nine months earlier Dean had spent time lecturing me on the very basic premise of how to punch a man out and I had used it to a mixed bag of results one or two times, but only when I felt like I really needed to.

Like then?

My head was screaming –

 _Do it, do it_.

Dean was looking over and his gaze made me shiver and want more than anything to make it back to his arms and which was probably why I then threw back my elbow and buried it right into the hostage taker's gut before curling up my fingers in a fist of vague fury which I spun and then launched into his ugly face.

 _Bam_.

Instantly everything slowed down around us, including the pain which then blossomed across my hand and the expression of surprise which Eric suddenly started wearing as he toppled over backwards and hit the dirty hardwood floor which was then further compounded as the little zip-lock package of illegal substances hit his temple and then made him pass clean out.

"Princess," Dean swept in behind me pretty rapidly and encircled me breathlessly with his ever loving arms as he spun me towards him away from the carnage and hauled my trembling body with purpose against his own.

"Dean – ,"

"Easy, you're alright, it's okay now, I gotcha."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have – ,"

"You're okay. Fuck."

Behind us his mother watched us briefly for a second and then simply began to drag poor hopeless Eric towards the door, sliding his drunken carcass over the floorboards and then using her foot to push him over the threshold. Having seemingly learnt her lesson, the bag of pills went out after him, but she picked up and then very wisely canned the offending knife before snorting at the grumbling form of the idiot and then very pointedly slamming the door. Brushing her hands off she crossed the living room beaming and with a lightness to her step that I hadn't seen from her before, which seemed totally parallel to what had just happened and the knife wielding loon laid outside her front door.

In fact she snorted at me,

"Looks like you might fit in here after all, thanks for the taffy by the way kid, it tastes real good. Oh, 'bout your mother and that whole side of this business? I – uh – I guess I'm real sorry for your loss."

"Um, thanks."

But then in the very next second she was gone again, leaving Dean to grumble in fury into my hairline and then turn for her bedroom like he was going to haul back her out and which I responded to by scrabbling wildly at his shirt folds because the adrenaline was rapidly beginning to tail off and the tears were setting in like a bank of cloud cover and I wanted and needed his arms to hold me close.

Dean resisted,

"Let me go Princess. She's the reason that asshole came round here and she's the reason he nearly fuckin' hurt you, so if she thinks that she can just walk off and forget this then – ,"

I buried my head into his chest and shivered,

"Please."

"Fuck," Dean carded his hand through my tresses and then kissed my crown, "You're alright now baby. He's gone an' there's no way I'm lettin' him near you again _ever_. If I see his face round here he's dead."

He pulled me closer and being wrapped in his aftershave and familiar aroma helped to quell the fierce hurt, even though my knuckles still stung a little and my heart felt like it might erupt into bits.

I shuddered a breath in and then whispered a sentence,

"Dean?"

"What's wrong baby?"

I felt it needed to be said, because in the moment it was the only real thing I could think of and so I tremored it out proudly.

"I – I think your mom likes me now."

* * *

 **Next chapter Lauren gets to look at some proper wedding dresses before a worrying call puts an end to that, see you there!**


	14. I'll Be Wearing White

**Time to shift gears now and move back into the wrestling world for our big crazy finale part of this story and may I just say now that I've outdone myself on how wild these last few chapters are going to be…but hey, it's wrestling so anything can happen!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Yep, Lauren knows how to find trouble. I kinda give her a bit of a break in this chapter but only because she's going to find a heap more chaos still to come!**

 **Mandy, Yep, she's come a long way since Bray first grabbed her, now the girl is prepared to fight back…even if it does scare her witless during/after! But hey at least she gets Dean cuddles from it so every cloud I guess right?!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, I think Eric should be more worried about his pride. He would probably be a special guest star on one of those Dumbest Criminals shows because he really doesn't have much luck on the crime front!**

 **Skovko, Well, you know the old saying, if taffy doesn't work…no, I'm kidding. But I figure Dean's mom isn't the type of woman who is swayed by flowers and chocolates. She likes a bit of moxie and spark. Still, family Christmases are going to be fun!**

 **Minnie1015, Hey, that last one was totally the fault of Dean's hometown. Lauren just happened to be a bystander…okay, yeah, she finds trouble. On a side note next week's RAW is in his hometown…miraculous appearance maybe (fingers crossed?!)**

 **ShieldGirlBecky, I think Mama Ambrose is about as 'warm' as she's every likely to get as this point or is as humanly possible for her! Here comes the call (after I give Lauren a bit of a break) and while I'm not giving all the answers, it will set up our big ending!**

 **LunaticxLass, Yep, Mama Ambrose is as approving as she knows how to be, but still the woman is a pretty tough crowd! Still, I guess compared to Stephanie she is positively sweetness and light! Maybe I should write a Mama Ambrose/Steph throw down at some point?!**

 **Say yes to the dress…**

* * *

 **I'll Be Wearing White**

In total we stayed for a further two days in his hometown before Dean had to pack up to head for the house shows. But thankfully the rest of it turned out to be relatively uneventful and even potentially sort of borderline relaxed since there were no more run-ins with hopped up villains or people trying to fleece me for things I technically already owned.

 _Ugh_ –

Damn that guy.

Even Mama Ambrose seemed to warm up to me a little bit, to the point that we even made dinner together on the last night like we had done it a million times before in our acquaintance and which had instantly made me imagine family holiday and meals but which I knew would never be truly realistic since frankly I was just lucky that she hadn't tried to punch me at any point.

Roman had made sure it was the first thing he had asked us,

" _Didn't see that right hook of hers then baby girl?"_

Dean had snorted,

" _No, but Lauren punched a mugger_."

" _Yeah_?"

" _Hell yeah, my baby's got the moves man._ "

By the time the Monday night tapings had rolled around again I was actually weirdly glad to be back, because compared to the chaos of our sojourn to Cincinnati the madness of the ring seemed like real life again and far more familiar than streets and gang-bangers and knife wielding addicts bursting into people's homes and then collapsing into a heap in the middle of the floorboards –

In short, the wrestling world was where I belonged.

Dean, Roman and I arrived early at the venue with the boys having picked me up from my eastbound flight in and instead of running some steps in the arena or otherwise hanging around while they toned themselves in the gym or went over their matches and plans for the evening, I instead hit the town with my favorite work friend. Because _boy_ was there a whole lot for me to catch him up on. In fact it nearly killed him there was so much to take in,

"So let me get this straight here because it's sounds completely crazy," Matt blinked over the top of his brimming coffee cup, leaning so far forward that the tassels of his fashion scarf practically dipped into the foam of his latte that the barista had styled into the shape of a cat.

I nodded back steadily,

"I told you a lot happened, I really wasn't kidding huh?"

Matt had scoffed,

"You're telling me girl. Because if I've got this right then what you're actually saying here is that you sucker punched some random pill popping asshole who was holding you at knifepoint in exchange for his drugs and then after that the wasted-soon-to-be-mother-in-law that had hated you the entire time accepted you right into the fold?"

"Um – yep, I mean, _kind of_ anyway."

Because I knew that Mama Ambrose would never be sweetness and light and would never be the type to come running out to greet us on the sporadic occasions we chose to call round. In fact, more than likely we would probably have to go and find her in much the same way we had on the visit before, which was how Dean had grown used to his rare parental meetings going and which I therefore assumed I would have to as well.

Not that I was much looking forward to the prospect –

I was already mentally preparing myself.

From out of nowhere I experienced a flashback and it made me wince as I bent in towards my drink, blowing a cooling breath across the little marshmallows bobbing in the stew of my salted caramel hot chocolate. I had no idea why I had ordered something wintry right smack bang in the middle of the summer months, but I figured that after everything I had recently been through that I owed it to myself to have a gluttonous cocoa-y hit.

"I – I might have hugged her when we were leaving."

"Who?" Matt frowned,

"Um, Dean's mom."

"Yikes."

Nor was his response too out of place either.

My mother in-law had responded like a poor abused dog and in the end it had been like enveloping a length of plywood since she had stiffened so instantly that I had been worried that she might break. By the time it had come to us leaving Cincinnati she had mellowed enough to stand out by the door, holding a much needed cigarette between her fingers in what she had obviously hoped was a casual looking slump. She had wanted to give off the air of not caring and so to that end hadn't even given Dean a proper hug but I could tell in her eyes that she totally wanted to and so had swept in without blinking and provided one myself – squeezing her lightly by her too skinny forearms and trying not to burn myself on the smoking cancer stub – before stepping back and smiling pretty broadly and proudly as both she and Dean had gaped at my showing of love.

I shrugged a little,

"I guess I just felt so sorry for her because I'm not sure anyone had been nice to her before."

Matt laughed at me so suddenly and loudly that he actually blew foam from the top of his cup, tearing it off into a blob of tiny bubbles that whistled through the air and then right across the shop, landing by the elbow of a severe looking businessman who then put his suit into them as he flicked through the emails on his phone.

Whoops.

I turned back when my work bestie put words to the laughter,

"Are you surprised that people aren't lining up to give out hugs since the woman sounds like she's freaking ninety percent bile? Like anyone would try to hug a bristling porcupine. Honestly babe, I know that you're a people person and you like to make sure that folk get along but you would probably have been safer lighting a match in a fireworks factory."

I smiled at him wryly,

"Or spending the weekend with my old man?"

"Oh hell yeah."

For a second we lapsed into a comfortable silence which I then broke by letting out an unannounced little snort because a sudden thought had popped unprovoked into my brainstem and the image of the thing was too good not to pass along. Matt quirked a brow and I lent in across the table like I was passing some international secret over the top.

"Who do you think would win between Dean's mom and Stephanie?"

"Ooooh," Matt giggled, "Are we talking in the ring here? Because we all know that McMahons are known for playing dirty so your stepmother would totally have brass knuckles hidden away."

I took a sip,

"Yeah but Dean's mom is really feisty and she lives in a place where people carry knives and where people try to bust into her apartment at three in the morning so I'm pretty sure she could probably pretty easily handle that."

"Steph can be fast."

"Dean's mom has that right hook."

Matt sat back and then blew out a breath like he was actually giving the idea real consideration, before resolutely throwing the rest of his coffee down and then banging the cup home with a clink of thickened chinaware and a slap of his hands,

"I'm giving this one to Steph, but _only_ if we're talking a straight wrestling match here because if hardcore weapons or tables are involved then I'm changing sides and pegging Dean's drunken mother for the win."

I copied him by finishing off my hot chocolate,

"Good option."

"So we're in agreement?"

"Yep, we are."

He threw me a wink then wrapped his scarf a little tighter and stood from his chair in a silent _ready to go_ move which I mirrored by unhooking my purse handles from the chair back and climbing to my feet as we headed from the shop. Even before we were over the threshold, Matt had slipped his skinny arm through mine and then forced us into a ridiculous skipping movement which threatened to bring back the salted hot chocolate but was also totally and happily him.

"Oh god," I hissed through peals of laughter, "Stop, stop, I'm _so_ going to throw up."

Matty froze dead and I bumped suddenly into the side of him but then let out a thankful little moan, because I could genuinely feel my stomach swishing regrettably and I was pretty darn sure that if I really paid attention then I could also hear the marshmallows knocking up against my sides. I naturally assumed that Matty had stopped again in response to my pleading and possibly even my green face, but as I turned I saw he was looking over the street at something that for a second or two I couldn't quite place.

His lips twitched up,

"How's the wedding planning going?"

"Um, it isn't really."

"Not even a little bit?"

Even though I was squinting pretty hard across the asphalt I still couldn't seeing what had caught his bright gaze, because all I could see was a tiny little drug store, what looked like a sex shop and a large laundrette. I shrugged and then shook my head almost idly,

"I mean, I guess we've talked about it once or maybe twice, but I think Dean wanted to get his mom out of the way first – figuratively, not literally I hope."

Matt smirked at me,

"But what about the dresses and venues and color schemes and that kind of thing? You expect me to believe you haven't even _thought_ about it?"

Maybe he was looking at the sex shop after all and planning some sort of wild bachelorette party that would include blow up dolls and debauchery in spades, but which he would totally have to fight my bestie Kelly to be in charge of since that task was a undoubtedly a maid of honor thing. Besides which, knowing my best friend and how sex starved she had been recently and in actual fact since she had birthed her gorgeous chubby child, I figured that debauchery would pretty much be a mainstay of the pre-marital event with no exceptions anyway.

"Um, okay, so maybe I _have_ thought about it and looked up a couple of dresses online, but the problem is I guess I always wanted a white wedding whereas Dean wants a tropical beach and no one but us – which does sound pretty nice."

"Uh huh."

Matt waited for a second and then began to steadily steer me across the road, pausing for there to be a break in the traffic but then holding out one hand like an eager crossing guard. He received a heated beep from an angry Taurus driver but flipped them the bird without even giving them a look.

"Matty, what – ,"

"Dresses huh?"

"Only a couple and only in a super lazy late night image search, because honestly I've got no idea about that part of it, or styles or shades or anything like that."

Between us we hopped back up onto the kerbside and then thankfully right past the lurid sex shop, that was further advertised by a bright neon figure lit up by the door in the shape of a seductively posing girl with the all important _XXX_ above her outline just in case passers by hadn't quite worked the place out.

Matt grinned,

"Well in that case, let me kick start the process."

He spun me around towards a place in the corner that had been shadowed by an awning that spread right across the shop and then flung his arms out in a full _ta da_ gesture which made me gasp out but also hitch a little bit.

"A wedding dress shop? Oh god no, I could never – ,"

"Why not?"

"Because, um."

In terms of a real answer that was about all I had, since there was no proper reason why I couldn't begin browsing and starting to find a few things that I liked. Besides, it wasn't like I would ever have bought anything without having at least run it briefly past Kelly first and I knew in my heart of hearts that the big _that's the dress_ moment would be back in Wisconsin with her and her mom. Because even if Dean and I got married on a beach somewhere in a far-flung country then I would still need to look nice right? So therefore I literally had nothing to stop me from a little fun searching through the taffeta covered racks.

Except –

Except –

I swallowed a lump back as it welled up into my throat all at once and then did what I thought was a fantastic job of hiding it but which obviously wasn't pulled off quite well enough. Matt squeezed my hand and then tangled up my fingers,

"Oh goodness, oh sweetie, I forgot about your mom – well – I mean, not that I physically forgot her, but I never even thought about how this might make you feel. Oh god, I'm a bad friend."

He put a hand to his head dramatically and I snorted a little and then smiled,

"No you're not."

"But I've made you all sad."

"I'm okay, really."

It may or may not have been a vague lie but at the same time I also genuinely meant it because even though the thought of shopping for my wedding gown without my mom there cut right down to the bone, I also knew that she in no way would have wanted her absence to cast a shadow over the thing. Plus I knew that she would be there somehow anyway, nodding her head at whatever I tried on and tearing up in the way that mothers were meant to whenever their daughters put a floaty dress on. Besides, I figured that it was probably better to face the trauma of her not being there with me for my wedding head on, so that when it came to finally picking out my forever dress, there would be minimal tears and maximum grinning instead.

Matt was still panicking,

"No sweetie, forget it, we'll go to a bar and get hopeless trashed."

"Um, we've kind of got the taping in four hours – ,"

"It's fine, this is nothing that a mimosa can't solve."

He was actually heading to haul us back over the road again when I reached up with an eye roll and took hold of his hand, spinning him back in the direction of the boutique and then dragging him bodily across the threshold with a grin. Inside the place was – perhaps unsurprisingly – covered with rails of hanging white gowns, all of them carefully zipped up in see-through coverings but a literal blitz of lace, chiffon and bling. Everywhere I looked tiny diamantes caught the spotlights and shone back like the tiny little precious things they were and there was a bell above us which tinkled out merrily and brought out a lady who was probably in her fifties, with a pile of peroxide hair and a layer of bright red blush. Her Botox-surrounded eyes blinked across at us rapidly in what I guessed was an attempt at post-surgical procedure warmth and she clasped together long false fingernails as she greeted us hopefully,

"How can I help you both?"

"Um – ," I faltered, suddenly feeling overwhelmed again because _wow_ was there a whole lot of material on the rails, but luckily Matty stepped in with authority and a wave of his hand,

"We're just browsing thanks."

I nodded like a mute little marionette behind him and then parroted it too,

"Browsing, uh huh."

Honestly it was probably a good thing that he was with me since otherwise I would probably have been talked into leaving with a gown and probably something horrible and poofy that I never in a million years would have willingly picked out. Following his lead I began to sort through the railings, trying to work out what I could picture myself in, but managing to fail on that point pretty rapidly since I had never really thought too hard about the thing or if I wanted an A-line or a princess dress or a sweetheart neckline or the other words I had heard. Frankly it was much like speaking another language as Matt pretty quickly came to figure out himself,

"So sweetie, give me some filters to help out here."

"Um, give you what?"

Matty waved expressive hands,

"I mean do you want the big organza style bottom with the pleating and the ruffles or a fishtail to emphasize your hips, or do you want to go a whole lot more classy with something that has about a mile of lace?"

I blinked back,

"Lace."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh huh, um, no ruffles or low necklines or anything I can't sit down comfortably in."

He snapped his fingers like he was computing the information and then bustled off to happily flick through the hanging gowns, humming to himself like he was absolutely in his element and which I kind of had to figure that he probably was. Not that I considered Matty to be a gay best friend cliché, but at times his levels of fashion love were impossibly high and apparently never more so than when leafing through wedding dresses like he was waiting for the dentist and skim-reading a magazine.

Inhaling heavily I decided to join him and so slowly began to sort through the many hanging rails, which helped to establish the sort of thing that I hated but not so much the type of thing I liked. Given that I had watched a couple of episodes of _Say Yes To The Dress_ I had been swayed into the belief that the perfect gown would launch out and then hit me in the gut and I would know with my whole being that the length of white taffeta or lace or whatever was totally it. But then again how often in life did it happen that people knew instantly a thing was wholly right? I mean, I'd been attracted to Dean from the moment I had met him but not even I would have said to begin with in those first few days that he was _the one_ and even though he probably would have totally told me otherwise, I knew the same was true for him. It didn't make what we had any less special for being a slow-grow but it underlined to me that I was a wait-and-see kind of a girl, who liked to look at all of her options before making a decision of any real kind.

Lace.

Yep.

It was pretty much my single dress requirement because I thought it struck a nice sort of classy kind of note and therefore was something I felt that I wanted but which everybody else seemed to want to have too. In essence I was practically blinded by lace options, to the point I blew a thankful breath out when my cell phone began to ring and assuming it was Dean I answered without looking as I wedged it between my ear and my shoulder,

"You'll never guess what I'm doing."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is this Lauren Helmsley?"

"Lauren Hope," I corrected quickly in an automatic response before frowning in confusion at the voice, "Um, yes it is."

My answer seemed to reassure the woman on the other end, who let out a little sigh that worried me a bit, because already it seemed impossibly formal and so I started to think all sorts of terrible things, meaning that I almost completely missed hearing the next sentence in a whirlwind of anxiety.

"Vince McMahon – ,"

"Um, I – what?"

"Mr McMahon would like to see you in his office when you get back to the arena."

 _Crap_.

My whole body froze, since being called in to see the boss was never a happy thing and particularly since I hadn't even known he was in town. Maybe he was in town specifically to see me? Perhaps he was firing me for having messed up somehow or more likely to chew me out for having let slip about the engagement without having run it past him or cleared it somehow. I bit on my lip and then tried to fathom whether or not he had a reason to be upset and whether it was on a personal family type level or because he would have wanted to use it better on TV.

I swallowed,

"Have I – have I done something wrong at all?"

Her answer was clipped and not very reassuring but then again the truth was that she probably didn't know, since I doubted the owner of a global corporation talked his personal assistant through every last choice he made.

"If you could just make sure to see Mr McMahon before the taping."

"Um, I mean yes – uh – I'm looking forward to it, well maybe not but sort of because – ,"

His assistant cut me off again, either sensing that I was launching into a long and clumsy diatribe or possibly because she had been warned by her boss, but managing to keep her tone impressively chirpy as she basically hung up on me,

"Thank you, good day."

"Uh, okay bye."

I stood for a second blinking into the taffeta and then very nearly almost bit my lip clean off and was about to call Dean to let him scout for some answers or tell me something reassuring when Matty showed up. In his hands he was holding a gown still in the zipper bag and bubbling with excitement.

"I think this is the one, I mean, obviously you still have to say a final yes or no to it, but I think it is going to match your skin tone so well and emphasize those big brown eyes and all that hairs of yours."

I blinked at him feeling a little dazed,

"Huh? Oh."

"You okay sweetie?"

"I've been called in to see Vince later."

His face fell a little in sympathy,

"Oh shit."

"Don't say that," I hissed back worriedly, "You're supposed to say sort of uber soothing things, like maybe he wants to congratulate me on the engagement, or offer one of his luxury homes to have the wedding in, or maybe even give me a gigantic promotion because I've been doing so well on my commentary job."

Matty blinked again,

"Oh shit."

"Not helpful."

In the corner of the room the bright eyed wedding dress shop owner was still hovering like a pike in the middle of a pool and on seeing the bag in Matt's hand she moved forwards with dollar signs pinging like a slot machine in her eyes.

"Have you found something you like? How about you try it on then? Oh yes, this one will look lovely on such a pretty girl."

I shuffled a little awkwardly,

"Um – ,"

"Come on now madam, don't be nervous."

Before I could blink she had a hand on my back and had plucked the bag from out of Matt's fingernails, propelling me off in the direction of the changing rooms as I tried to protest as politely as I could,

"Oh, actually I think we need to be going – ,"

"It won't take long."

Luckily Matty stepped easily in and swept his arm back through the crook of my elbow at the same time wheeling me in the direction of the door.

"Maybe we'll pop in when we're next in town, okay hun? In the meantime, put a label on that one for her if would you be so kind? Because right now my girl has got a meeting with the boss man and if she's late for it, then there won't be a wedding at all."

Damn.

* * *

 **Next chapter Vince has a 'genius' idea for a segment on the show. But of course, we know what Vince's ideas are like. Lauren is not quite so sure!**


	15. Manic Monday

**Over to the chairman now then. What has Vince got up his sleeve? By the way forgive any editing mistakes I missed, I have whooping cough (who has whooping cough in this day and age?) so I'm mostly hacking up a lung at the moment. Enjoy!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Haha, maybe but then has Vince ever been normal? Luckily not otherwise he wouldn't be half so interesting in my stories. My favorite Vince moment ever is his match against Shane because the whole family was involved. Even poor Linda (what a patient woman she is!)**

 **Mandy, As long as there is a Dean and a Lauren there will be Deano cuddles so never fear! Seth will be back shortly in this story so never fear and he's in the next one too (because I'm creating him something of an arc you might say!)**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Yeah Vince is about as far away from lowkey as you can imagine. But I'm not sure that eve I could write anything as crazy (trying not to say self-absorbed) as the Nikki/Cena wedding. I mean the truth is stranger than fiction right (using the term 'truth' very lightly in this case though!)**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Nice guess but not quite…well, not totally anyway but we will see Randy again before this story is finished because the guy is like a literal bad penny. You never know when the Authority might pop back up!**

 **Moxley Gal1, Never fear as you will see from this chapter Dean is already on the case or will be anyway because he knows that Lauren will blindly agree to things so this time he definitely wants to be there to slam the brakes on if needs be!**

 **Skovko, It would be a very Vince thing to do…with a big wedding cake that gets trashed and thrown at people variously as it all breaks down a la Jerry Springer! Luckily it's not quite that in terms of his suggestion but you never really know what goes on with the McMahons…**

 **DannyPhantom619, Haha, Grandpa is indeed back, but he is the least cuddly/trustworthy grandpa that there ever was in the whole wide world! He is a man with a plan but can he be believed? You never really know with Vince!**

 **Labinnacslove, Vince definitely wants to turn their relationship to his advantage but luckily he stops just short of an actual wedding…or does he? Either way let's just say that Dean is not impressed and Lauren is less than keen but hey, we need a big ending right?!**

 **Let's get into it…**

* * *

 **Manic Monday**

"Princess? Hey – ,"

"Huh?"

I turned in the corridor the second the familiar rumble bounced off the walls and then squinted a little towards the whitewashed horizon as the shift from the bright summer sun from the outside messed with my vision until I couldn't see a thing. I physically startled when a hand touched my elbow.

 _Eep_.

"Whoa, somebody seems kinda nervy this evenin'."

Dean was standing right at my side which I realized from his hold and the smell of his aftershave but had to blink a few more times before I could properly make out. His own bright blue eyes were far better adjusted from having been tucked in the arena all afternoon, but he still had his shades looped in through his shirt collar and was it weird that I found the look totally hot? I mean alongside his lazy gum chewing and the fluffy bangs of his hairstyle.

Oh who was I kidding?

My fiancé was _always_ hot.

I reached out to wrap my fingers lightly around his forearm and he responded by pressing his free hand against my hip like at any moment I thought there might be an earthquake and so was latching to the thing that I knew would keep me safe.

He frowned at me,

"Okay, _somethin_ ' is eatin' you, an' if you don't tell me straight up I'll tickle it outta you instead."

"You wouldn't dare."

His fingers curled inwards and began to brush teasingly over my side and I squeaked a little then began squirming on instinct because I had long possessed the world's most sensitive skin. From a few paces behind Matt took off his trilby then swiped the back of his hand across his head, where a bead of sweat had collected on his brow line which he then cleared even further by using his fashion statement as a fan.

He wrinkled his brow a little at our showing,

" _God_ you two are ridiculously cute – like – I can't even stand the hallmark card levels of cuteness. But as for the nerves thing? We cut our little trip off early because your girl here has been called in to see the big bad boss."

"Hunter?" Dean barked looking instantly furious and I shook my head in response,

"No, Vince."

"The fuck does _he_ want?"

I shrugged and threw my hands up but then undermined my attempt at being super casual by biting my poor bottom lip down hard and it make him flick my nose tip lightly in warning because he tended to hate when I beat myself up and which was kind of ironic since he was always picking at himself or slapping his own face or scratching at his hair.

"Um," I blinked, "I'm not sure, she wouldn't tell me."

"She?"

"His assistant, she said I've got to go there right away."

Dean nodded back,

"Alright then, let's do this."

He raised his hand back up from my hip bone and then used it to tangle his fingers in mine, before turning and towing me blinking along the corridor until I was following like a faithful labrador in a baffled stupor right behind, feeling both grateful and confused by his presence but remembering to pivot back and give Matty a farewell wave. Dean continued walking regardless however and the pulled me round a corner and took my work best friend from sight, leaving me with little option but to try and keep pace with him and appreciate his protectiveness.

"Thank you for taking me there, you're too sweet, I guess I get kind of nervous about Vince-stuff because he asks me to do things and I can never say no, but knowing that you're outside is going to make it so much more bearable."

Dean grumbled back,

"I'm comin' in with you as well."

"Um, you're what?" I frowned in bewilderment as my feet continued to slap the cold concrete floor in a sort of instinctive move somewhere beneath me that I wasn't clued into since I was mostly focussed on our chat,

"Princess, like you said, that bastard talks you into shit an' this time I'm makin' sure he's not tryin' 'a take you for some ride or make you put on some crazy ass costume or take on more hours – ,"

"Or fire me?"

"That as well."

Because of his pace we had cleared the lower corridors and had passed up the stairs into the plusher looking parts, where management types were afforded swanky offices and which was therefore where the head of the company hung out. For the most part Vince never came to many tapings and instead left the running to his daughter and my old man, but when he _did_ show up the mood sort of altered.

Everybody was suddenly on the balls of their toes.

Due to his being the super big boss man, he had been allocated the room that was the biggest of the bunch and idly I wondered whether he requested their finest or whether it was an honor they gave him simply _because_. I also wondered if maybe he had a rider and what sort of things a geriatric might demand and whether he was a drape-the-room-in-silk-sheets kind of person, or else the type to ask for only brown M&Ms. Given that he had known him much longer than I had, I thought that Dean might have the inside scoop on that and so asked him as he towed me briskly through the hallways with my usual completely out of the blue kind of start.

"Do you think he asks for a basketful of kittens?"

"The fuck are you talkin' about?"

"Oops sorry. Vince, I was wondering what sort of things his rider might have on it."

"Money."

I blinked,

"Huh?"

Dean shrugged loosely back,

"I kinda figure he has a ball pit in the back somewhere that has – like – a _bunch_ of hundred dollar bills and when he gets some free time he strips himself naked and rolls around in 'em like he's takin' himself a bath."

He offered the answer as he continued to tow us and I blinked at both his unflinching trajectory and the ease of his sentiments on the matter in hand,

"I see you've clearly given some thought to this."

Dean snorted wryly,

"Picturin' the boss naked? Not so much. But the rollin' in money thing? Damn straight I have. Pictured _your_ ass rollin' in the green stuff a couple times too and I'll give you three guesses 'bout which of those I fuckin' prefer."

I giggle-snorted which sounded completely _not_ sexy,

"We could make it our very next role-play I suppose. I mean, I could be the sexy bank manager being super bitchy and turning down your much needed loan and you could take me off into the bank vault and have your wicked way with me on a pile of banknotes. Ooh, I could get one of those little cashier hats and maybe wear a white shirt and little neck scarf too and then you could use that to – ,"

I stopped and then blushed fiercely as a woman walking past us fixed me with a bewildered looking frown which then made me wonder how loudly I had been talking as Dean chuckled unhelpfully and then propelled me in front, using the brand new change of positions to press himself against me and murmur huskily into my ear,

"Sounds so fuckin' good."

"It does?"

"Looks like my kinky girl is back huh?"

Down between my legs there was a sudden spread of warmth as my body began to respond to his proximity and the fact that he was pushed so tantalizingly close, to the point that I could feel the tension in his jean fronts as he butted my lower spine.

 _Oh god, take me now_.

But rather than lying me flat on the carpet and making love to me by the stairwell of the arena's fifth floor, he instead used his position to steer me around a corner and towards a small reception desk set up beside a pair of doors. Behind it was a smartly clothed, prim looking woman whose hair was so glossy that not a strand was out of place and which was therefore so opposed to my own flyaway static that I was caught between touching it and simply calling her a bitch.

Dean stepped around me,

"We're here to see the boss man, I'm guessin' the big guy's holed up in there right?"

He barely even paused to let her answer the question or much take stock of the fact that we were there since he was moving as the sentence was still rumbling around us and taking the pretentious looking brass knob in his hand. He knocked once and then simply let himself in regardless while I hovered nervously beside the desk in his wake watching as the assistant shot up in mild panic, fumbling a few items and scattered sheets of paper before hitting the intercom seconds too late,

"Mr McMahon, Lauren Helmsley and Dean Ambrose are – ,"

He shouted back wryly from inside,

"So I see."

In response to his tones her shoulders slumped slightly and then her eyes flickered instantly back towards me, with levels of irritation that were so pulsating I had to resist the urge to step back a pace. Never blinking she waved a hand off towards the threshold and then smirked at me pointedly,

"You can go in."

I nodded in what I hoped was a thankfully little gesture then scuttled in past her and quickly closed the door before blowing out a sigh and turning into the office with an absent little head shake,

"She's not happy at all."

 _Oh_.

Both Vince and Dean were staring back at me silently from their various positions around a solid hardwood desk with the elderly business owner sat stern faced behind it while my fiancé was parked in front having found himself a seat. It was one of those things that fascinated me about him, because no matter where we were Dean always looked cool or like nothing alive would ever openly bother him or else like he had all the time in the world. I padded across the office and then took the place beside him before crossing my hands demurely.

"Um, you wanted to see me Vince?"

He raised a greyed brow,

"Sure, but I forgot you two are a thing now so I should have expected your boyfriend to show up as well. Oh, my apologies to you both – _fiancé_ because who can forget _that_ little slip right?"

I sucked in a breath,

"Um – yeah – so about that."

"Congratulations you two kids, I'm very happy for you."

"What?"

In having prepared myself mentally for the fallout the one thing I hadn't prepped for was the boss being pleased and so I had to look up to make sure I hadn't dreamed it, which I hadn't because Vince McMahon was _smiling at us_.

Honestly I wasn't convinced that I liked it.

Even Dean too looked very mildly stunned, which was an expression then grew pretty exponentially as the boss stood up suddenly and threw out his arms.

"Come here kid,"

"Uh – ,"

For a man who was one hundred or however old he was, the company owner moved pretty darn fast and so before either one of us really knew what was happening, he had skirted the table and hauled me into his arms, using one hand to press my head into his suit front which therefore instantly began to suffocate my lungs with a mixture of expensive spiced smelling aftershave not to mention a measure of charcoal twill. His arms pressed around me in a genuine hugging motion, while my own flapped from oxygen starvation behind, not sure whether to return the impromptu cuddle or to use them to claw his suit down to retrieve some needed air.

"Didn't I always say you two made a cute couple? Linda and I are seriously beyond thrilled and we want you to know that however we can help out and make your day more special then we certainly will."

He let me go and I hauled a shaky breath in and then tried to clear my spotting vision a bit as Vince briskly moved himself over to my fiancé holding out a firm hand which a very bewildered Dean shook.

"Uh thanks."

His suspicious tones managed to speak for the both us which was probably just as well since I was still trying to work things out.

Members of the McMahons were genuinely _happy_ for us?

Hold up –

Had he offered his financial support?

In striding back past us Vince slapped me paternally and far too hard right between my shoulder blades and it propelled me forwards in an awkward little stumble that Dean managed to save by hanging onto the back of my blouse. Fortunately our employer appeared not to notice as he reinstalled himself behind his well-polished desk and then steepled his fingers in a tentatively looking gesture that made me sink back down into my seat.

"So then you two, we need to talk about moving forwards and how we're going to have to try and handle this whole thing."

"Handle?" Dean echoed with no small amount of scowling,

"Absolutely," Vince replied, "I mean, this is a pretty big deal and now that it's been mentioned on live television we have to go with it because that makes it a part of the storylines now."

Dean bristled,

"This isn't some crazy angle we dreamt up to get more airtime."

I nervously bit my lip and then habitually began to fondle the necklace pendant that was always hung where I could put my restless hands on it and run the pretty cameo under my fingers which acted a little like a fidget spinner type thing and reminded me of my mother and how calm she was always. It made me suck in a breath and reach for his hand,

"Dean."

"Fuck."

My fiancé sat back with a tiny grumble that the owner of the company may or may not have heard, then began to tap his fingers rhythmically against his kneecaps like he was beating out a tune that only he could hear and then alternating that by patting on his collarbone or reaching up to itch fractious fingernails through his hair at which point his foot would then take over the drumming.

Vince watched it happen with a vague smirk.

Huh?

It wasn't a look that I found terribly settling but it was gone again before I had the chance to study the lines more and was instead replaced with the same grin from earlier as he continued on his trajectory like nothing was wrong.

"So what we were thinking here was an interview segment."

I blinked,

"Um, interview segment with who?"

Hazel orbs looked back at me steadily with barely even a flicker in the gaze and which was enough to tell me that whatever he was thinking he had already pretty much set his elderly heart on.

Damn.

"Between you and Michael Cole. I'm thinking probably a simple in-ring thing before the main event. It could be a good cool down bit and break the show up with something a little special and help to get the audience even more involved. I mean, after all the fans are crazy about you and especially about your relationship and love story."

"They – they _are_?"

"Oh yeah, the female fans in particular which as you know is who we're trying to get on board here, but thanks to you being so sweet and pretty the male demographic are kind of into it as well."

Dean snorted roughly.

It probably wasn't the greatest selling point since the last thing my fiancé would ever have wanted to somehow encourage was _more_ covetous eyes on me and particularly since I already had previous for attracting attention in the wrong places and _then_ some. From Bray Wyatt back what felt like literal _years_ ago and then moving through Andy and Elliott from home, before landing squarely and terrifyingly on Randy who was easily the worst of a very bad pool. If Dean had been given his way then I would have existed in a bubble and walked around in public with a bag on my head rather than being propelled before the cameras and held up for thousands of lustily viewing men.

I blinked away the image,

"So – um – this interview, what kind of things would I be expected to say? Because I'm not sure how much I would feel comfortable with putting out there."

Vince reached over and patted my hand,

"Nothing personal kiddo, I promise. Michael will simply ask you some general stuff. How the proposal went down and that kind of thing. I mean, hell, if you're not comfortable then just make the answers up. No one's going to know and it's only for the storyline so if that's what you wanna do then go for it okay?"

Dean looked up and his blue orbs were fiery as they had been the whole time Vince had been putting forth his grand plan but which the businessman was either oblivious to or ignoring.

Probably the latter.

Possibly a bit of both.

"What if she straight up plain doesn't want to do it or – indulge me here for _like_ a second will you old man – but what if the fiancé who hasn't had a say yet thinks you've come up with a terrible idea? In fact, possibly the worst idea in the history of wrestlin' because askin' someone about their freakin' engagement has nothin' to do with anybody else?"

Ouch.

I held my breath and then looked nervously between them because the levels of testosterone were lifting off the charts, to the point where I expected them to start pounding their chests gorilla-like or possibly even start throwing their own turds. In response to Dean however our head honcho lifted his brow again in a pure combination of unhappiness and raw glee,

" _Hypothetically_ I'll assume you mean Ambrose?"

"If that makes you any happier then sure, what the hell."

"Well in that case then I would have to regrettably bring up the contract that Lauren here signed barely one month ago and which states that if needed she will still appear on camera provided that it is in a non-wrestling role. I think this would fall broadly into that category wouldn't you agree?"

Dean instead grit his jaw and tried to bite back something incendiary that would probably get him fired but which still partly bled out,

"Son of a bitch."

Vince snorted smugly,

"I'll take that as _yes_ then, but if it makes you feel any better about things Ambrose, then you have my word that our girl won't get hurt out there. I see her as a part of my family as well you know and that hasn't changed throughout everything that has happened."

Dean grimaced back at him,

"Yeah, that doesn't help at all."

He stood from his chair and then beckoned me towards him, signalling that in his eyes the impromptu meeting was all done and brushing his fingers over my elbow as I blinked for a second and then hesitantly stood up. The second I was back on my feet Dean turned me and pressed his palm to the lower section of my back in a move that was both protective and guiding and which clearly wanted to get me the hell out of dodge.

Vince watched us go but called out when we hit the threshold,

"Lauren? You'll get a call before you're needed to go on and you'll need time to go back and change before you go out there so I'll make sure you have a little warning before that."

I stopped –

Huh?

Dean nearly walked right into the back of me, but I honestly he could have steamrollered me down because I probably would have still been blinking at our employer with measures of confusion,

"Um, I'm sorry but _go back and change_?"

"Well of course kid," Vince nodded like the statement had been obvious and not a massive curveball like most of the things he said had, "I mean, we want to make sure you're looking all glamorous and like the blushing bride-to-be don't you think?"

"Um – ,"

I looked down quickly at what I was wearing.

Black capri pants with some not-too-tall red heels and a sleeveless blouse with a high lace neck. Honestly I thought I looked pretty professional and Dean had certainly not appeared to mind when he had greeted me that morning as I had stepped from the bathroom by planting his hot palms right in over my ass and then nuzzling my earlobe as he had murmured in husky sleep tones about my butt cheeks looking super fuckably hot in the tight pants.

Evidently however I hadn't read the pamphlet on how an engaged woman was apparently supposed to dress and so gaped back feeling pretty bewildered and mildly hurt,

"What's wrong with this?"

Vince smiled indulgently,

"Kiddo, you look great in that, but we're going to try and strike an engagement party vibe, besides, this is your moment so we all want you to look stunning. I mean, how often do you get to celebrate like this right? In front of whole world and showing everyone that you're happy? I want you to remember this night for a long time to come."

"Oh," I replied, because that sounded nice I guessed.

Maybe he really _was_ trying to do right and give me something special in the only way he knew how to, when frankly a coffee machine or new set of bath towels would have done.

Vince winked at me,

"I'll see you on the screen kiddo."

"Princess, come on," Dean sighed heavily from behind, replacing the guiding palm that had been positioned above my butt cheek and using it to steer me sternly out of the room. I could tell he was pissed and that he _hated_ our private lives being used in an angle to push the ratings up a bit and so I held off until we were back around the corner and into the stairwell beyond the lions' den. There I paused and turned around to face him before cupping his cheeks lightly and then tiptoeing up.

I kissed him,

"I'll be fine, I've done interviews before this and I actually think this one might be kind of _nice_. I mean, pretty much since the moment you popped the engagement ring out I've wanted to scream about this from the nearest empty roof and even though it isn't the most perfect situation – which I know, I know, is putting it pretty mildly – I actually get to do that tonight."

He murmured over my lips,

"I don't fuckin' like it."

I kissed him again,

"Don't worry, I'll be fine, I mean Michael Cole might be a total idiot but at least he's not dangerous."

"Princess – ,"

"Hey," I stroked his cheeks beneath the tips of my fingers and then waited until the blue eyes had lifted back up before leaning in and kissing his nose end, the way he had done to me a million times before and which thankfully managed to take the fight right out of him, "How about you keep thinking about that naughty role play and what else we can do when we get back to our room."

He snorted at me,

"You really think I'm that easy to manipulate?"

I licked his bottom lip,

"Yep."

He shivered,

"Fuck, you're right."

Pulling me closer and then wrapping his arms around me, he clamped me close for a proper searing kiss which was so hot and heavy and full of tongues and sloppy lip locks that we even lost our balance and crashed back against the wall, upsetting a large pot plant set beside the stairwell and then laughing in tandem at how ridiculous we were.

Dean stroked my hair back,

"Promise me you'll be careful?"

"I will, there's totally nothing to worry about tonight."

I even stupidly meant what I was saying too because as far as I was concerned it was plain sailing from there on out, but which was probably because I hadn't considered where I was working and more specifically the family that I was actually working _for_.

It turned out that there was quite was a lot to be worried about –

Mountains and mountains of worry in fact.

* * *

 **Sooo, what happens next chapter? Well, there is a lot going on so for now I'm just going to say that I'll see you there! Also, RAW this week (in real life) in is Cincinnati so let's all keep our fingers crossed for the real life Dean to pop back up (I figure if I say it enough times it might happen!)**


	16. Trouble Comin' Every Day

**Time for everything to start going wrong then because nobody here expected things to go well for our poor girl right? Building up to our crazy finale!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Me too, wrestling has not been the same without Dean and I'm especially missing his interactions with Roman and Seth because they seem to have so much fun when they're out there together. My dream is a heel Shield reunion like the good old days!**

 **Mandy, Thank you, I seem to lurch from one thing to another recently. I do not recommend whooping cough by the way, it completely sucks. Luckily antibiotics are kicking its backside though. Thanks for thinking of me. On the plus side I got lots of time off work to write!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Heel Dean and Roman tag team would be amazing. Dean could be Roman's Paul Heyman type guy and talk for him and interfere and Roman can just be badass and swagger around behind him…someone calls the writers and tell them this stuff!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Vince is such a quirky character because you never know if he is good or bad or neither or somewhere in between etc. I always like to think he's neither but that means you can never really trust his word…**

 **DannyPhantom619, Yep lots of shit and craziness happening in the next couple of chapters because that's the only way I know how. You get a taster of what might be happening in this one and then it all becomes horribly clear in the next one. Bring on the drama!**

 **Guest, Thank you, glad you're enjoying. Still more to come but we're getting close to the end.**

 **Skovko, God can you imagine a worse fate than going clothes shopping with Vince? Bra and panties weddings would totally be something he would Hallmark. Luckily he hasn't chosen the clothes on this occasion though but Lauren might end up wishing he had…**

 **Minnie1015, Nope, while my coughing fits have been many (many many because whooping cough is the** _ **worst**_ **) I think we might have to blame your baby brain on that one. But it's okay because I know you would have written one anyway. We both have pretty good excuses either way though!**

 **Rebel8954, Okay so I am writing this note the night before Monday RAW so I have no idea if he comes back or not but I will say it would be the perfect WWE ruse so come on people don't let me down! I need me some Dean and I have been patient!**

 **Labinnacslove, Yep, if there's one think you can count on then it's Vince with some crazy idea. Except he's not the one with the crazy idea this time as you are about to find out. Because there are _plenty_ of people in that family with heavily warped brains! **

**But in the meantime have some chaos…**

* * *

 **Trouble Comin' Every Day**

In hindsight I probably should have seen it coming from the moment the father of the woman who had kidnapped me had warmly assured me that I wouldn't come to any harm. Because the one thing I had forgotten was that in the big glitzy world of business and lawyers and legal stuff, technicalities of the spoken word were literally everything and so too were concepts like plausible denial.

In other words I was a very, very naive person.

Initially of course the night had started out normally and I had settled into my commentary post with barely even a blink and nor had I batted so much an eyelid when Michael Cole had looked bewildered when I mentioned the interview thing.

"So, what kind of questions have you got for me?" I had asked him with a bright chirp as I had slotted my headphones on and as the producers were counting us into the live broadcast and readying the pyrotechnics and lights to go off.

He had blinked at me,

"What?"

"Four…three…two…one…you're on guys."

In the flash of explosives and roar of the audience and the instantaneous beat of an incoming wrestler's theme, I had turned back to work and had forgotten all about it figuring that maybe my commentary colleague simply hadn't heard or else had yet to be informed about the interview since it wouldn't have been surprising to hear he hadn't been told. Besides, I had the big boss' protection, so it wasn't like I had anything to be concerned about.

Right?

In spite of that though, I couldn't really stop from shivering when the first match of the night was a Rowan and Harper tag because even though the times of them being mortal enemies was over, at no point had any of us become actual _friends_ and nor would I ever be able to fully shake the memory of being handcuffed in the motel room while they sat and watched over me.

"Ugh, I hate those guys."

Michael Cole filled the blanks in quickly for those people at home who had forgotten the beef since my main role on commentary seems to be spitting out sentences prior to thinking them properly through first.

"Lauren of course was kidnapped by Bray Wyatt and his two family associates late last year and held hostage overnight to force the truth out of Stephanie about her ongoing campaign of fear."

"Yep, hate those guys."

From right alongside me JBL patted my curled hand with his and then puffed out his chest like an out of place peacock that somebody had teasingly made wear a Stetson hat.

"Well no need to worry now, those two won't get past me."

"Unless Vince McMahon snaps his fingers."

"What was that Michael?"

"Oooh, big boot from Harper straight to the face – ,"

Biting back a smile I leaned forward a little and caught Jerry Lawler winking right back which had become kind of standing joke between the two of us, to giggle like two school kids whenever our two bickering colleagues flared up. Even having been sat next to the pair for nearly six weeks and being privy to their interactions when the cameras were off, I still couldn't tell if they genuinely hated one another or whether their fiery outbursts were simply how they showed their love. Lawler had been sitting next to them for a hell of a lot longer and evidently understood even less than that though and so in the end it was simply one of those wrestling mysteries I had learned to live with and secretly kind of loved.

Menfolk huh?

In total the first match only lasted a few minutes and ended with the lesser of my growing list of hated enemies unfortunately picking up the win.

"Darn, is it wrong that I wanted them to lose that?"

Lawler chuckled back at me,

"Not from you it's not, I mean you've got beef with them that could make a _heap_ of burgers."

"Bolognese too."

He laughed loudly at that.

For the next few matches my professionalism soared again and I went back to commenting the way that I had to in order to make sure they wouldn't cut off my pay and even though Michael Cole took the lead on narration, I actually felt like I was helping out pretty well and which was something that I had begun to feel week after week too as I slowly but surely started to bed in. I was even learning the names of some moves and submission holds thanks to late night sessions watching old matches in bed with Dean and having him talk through the basics of movements to the point where I could even begin to pick out the occasional botch –

Not that we were technically _meant_ to mention that part.

Dean was scheduled in for about midway through the taping and it was there that my professionalism took a possible minor hit, since he was facing off with Randy of all freaking people to make up for Seth having pressed his beaky nose in and ruined their match-up barely one week before.

Luckily he wasn't out there on commentary.

 _Un_ luckily however it meant having to look at Randy's bald head and the too tight trunks that I had long felt should have been illegal and which made me think about his _member_ and the night that he had tried to –

Nope.

"Lalalala," I sang the notes out loudly to break through the thought process then tried to clamp my hands over my ears before remembering that I was wearing a big ass pair of headphones and that, perhaps more importantly, I was both miked and fully live.

Crap.

Michael Cole, JBL and Jerry Lawler were blinking back at me and I winced a little and then let out a nervous laugh which then promptly turned into a gulp of pure terror as Randy strutted across the ring and then bumped the ropes with his chest, before licking his lips and looking right at me.

No singing in the world could have saved me from that.

But right on cue however and pretty much as always, the sound of a sliding guitar riff promptly kicked in and the packed out arena exploded in an excitement that lifted my heart right up into the clouds, because the elation they were expressing was saved solely for my fiancé who promptly strode out on top of the ramp and then stalked towards the ring with base levels of purpose and with his poor beautiful shoulder again heavily taped up. He was pumped and primed and ready for action and I honestly could not be any prouder of him at all. Momentarily I wondered if maybe his mom was watching since she had certainly implied that she kept tabs on everything, but the thought was quickly lost in the heat of the moment as the match began and Dean took total control.

"Yep, that's my man."

Michael Cole leaned in across the table,

"What can you tell us about the injury he has, it still looks up be strapped up so I'm assuming he must still be suffering?"

"Um – ," I paused a little unhelpfully and then grinned as I remembered Dean cupping my ass and how easy and sexually handsy his range of motion had been before clearing my throat, "He's a trooper, so he'll be fine, I'm sure the medical staff strapped him up as a precaution but trust me, you don't have to worry in the least."

Happily to prove my point, Dean then flung Randy right out of the ring bodily then slid out after him and threw him into the barricade too before stomping over to the timekeeper's area and starting to grab up a selection of chairs. He tossed them into the ring and I winced at it a little because frankly it seemed a horrible idea and mostly because I couldn't help but have flashbacks to my two weeks of concussion whenever I saw the stupid things.

Randy seemed addled and totally out of it –

I liked that part though.

Dean pushed him back in but from there things all went kind of _screwy_ because Randy rolled back out and then threw Dean clean into the post, launching him into the poor hurting shoulder and drawing a united type of _ooooh_ from the crowd and also me if I was totally honest.

Michael Cole raised a brow,

"You think his shoulder is fine, huh?"

Damn.

From there on in the match went pretty badly to the point where Dean was very nearly counted out, but which he managed to save at the very last second because he was Dean Ambrose so he was awesome like that. Even then however he couldn't stop the RKO strike and once his face hit the mat I knew the match up was done and it flowed up through me and lodged in my gullet because my poor brave man had put up one hell of a fight.

Randy smirked and then blew a kiss at me and I was inches away from flipping him the bird when thankfully JBL clamped my hand to the table and prevented me from possibly ruining my career.

Randy saw and then laughed across the ropes at me,

"See you later."

"In your dreams."

Dean took a few minutes longer to right himself while the referee hovered somewhat nervously by his side and I left the commentating to my colleagues for a second as I willed my man upright and back onto his feet.

Come on Dean.

I had vaguely remembered reading something somewhere about how multiple concussions in a short space of time had been known to result in blood clots and death and so therefore could have totally applied that to my fiancé who had been planted on his skull a little over a week ago and _then_ been forced to eat a series of hellish RKOs. My heart was thumping and I was itching to rush over but then he righted himself finally, shook his head side to side dog-like and gave me a weary but wry looking thumbs up.

I blew out a breath,

"Oh god, he's such an idiot."

I kept my eyes on him as he staggered back up the ramp, snorting a little as he flapped off the physicians before then snapping his teeth at them –

I loved when he did that.

In fact I was so busy watching my fiancé and mildly worrying that he could at any moment fall back down, that I barely even noticed a figure moving towards me until they squatted themselves low right next to my chair and made me startle with a pathetic little squeak noise which was then thankfully cut off as we went off the air and moved to one of the very quick commercials that usually helped provide some breathing time.

It was Matt.

"Lauren sweetie, it's time to get ready."

I pulled my headphones off and groaned back reluctantly,

"Oh yeah, because for some reason my clothes aren't glamorous enough for the next segment or maybe _I'm_ not or something, I'm not totally sure. But I mean, what does Vince McMahon know about ladies fashion anyway?" Matt winced and then pointed to the microphone before my face, making a swift motion to kill my grumpy ranting and making me gasp at my lack of discretion, "Ooh crap."

He bit on his lip to stop himself from laughing and in the moment it seemed so stupid I actually giggled too, trying to hide it in the palm of my hand badly as he beckoned me after him with a fond shake of his head.

I turned to the others as I slid from my position,

"Be back in a minute for the big engagement interview, Michael, remember now, I fully expect you to be pleasant."

He blinked at me and then went to say something but the commercials were close to being over and done, so I hot-footed my way around the ring towards Matty and then followed him backstage before the many cameras flipped back on. For a second I was worried we would be going through gorilla, where Hunter and Stephanie and their merry band liked to hang, but instead we skirted the edge of the rampway and ducked beneath the titantron into the hallways themselves.

Matty snorted,

"I totally hope Vince heard that."

I pouted in response,

"Hey no fair, I mean what if he's actually genuinely upset or something? He'll probably fire me once we get this part over – whatever _this part_ actually is because beyond it being an interview I'm pretty much in the dark here – um – where are we even going right now?"

For the most part when I found myself in the backstage section of arenas I either stayed on the same level or else usually headed lower down which been especially true in the early former Shield days because the boys had been pretty much persona-non-grata and so had spent most of their time making lockers room in the basement and generally trying to keep out of the way.

Matty was leading me upwards however.

He shrugged,

"All I was told was to take you up to this room, it's a real nice one sweetie with one of those big mirrors with light bulbs around it like a movie star of something."

"Be still my beating heart."

At the sound of deeply sarcastic rejoinder my work bestie laughed but then carried along, finally leading us to a door and then knocking before flinging it open and ushering me in.

"Here she is."

He was right.

I was in a proper dressing room with a comfy seating area and a partition wall, which was furnished with a curtain that I could draw when I was changing and which had had a floor to ceiling mirror to help me look at myself and whatever uber _glamorous_ dress Vince's people had picked out for me and which I totally wasn't massively bitter about –

Much.

In front of us there was a portly but otherwise smiling woman, who was standing in the centre with her hands loosely clasped and looking a little like a kindergarten teacher welcoming kids on their first day of class.

Matty introduced me with an actual flourish,

"Lauren Helmsley as requested."

Her head bobbed,

"Thank you."

He backed towards the hallway and I shot a look towards him which easily translated as a plea for him to stay, but instead he winced at me in an expression of pure apology, then shot the woman a fake smile and pulled shut the door. For a second there was silence because I had no idea what was happening and worryingly it seemed like neither did the wardrobe girl, who simply blinked across the room like she was nervous before sucking a breath in then gesturing awkwardly,

"Clothes off."

"Um, excuse me?"

"Oh, I mean around the corner, behind the partition – if you would like to take them off and then hang them over the top of the screen then I'll swap them out for the dress you'll be wearing."

I hesitated briefly,

"Can I see it first by any chance?"

"The dress?"

"Uh huh."

Her brown curls bounced,

"I'm afraid not no, I have very strict instructions that you aren't allowed to see it until I have you fully in and all zipped up – um – it's supposed to be a surprise."

I bit my lip hard.

Literally the last thing I wanted to do was strip all my clothes off and be dressed by someone I had recently met and especially not with my eyes closed or blindfolded because god only knew what they would put me into then and suddenly I had visions of being dressed in a costume or maybe something bizarrely raunchy but which would totally be Vince's thing. However none of that would be the fault of the person hovering in front of me, who was clearly an apprentice seamstress or college leaver at best and so to that end I painted a smile on and shuffled awkwardly round the corner before pulling across the thin strip of near see through fabric and beginning to shuck myself out of my own threads with internal mumble.

It was only for one night.

Maybe the dress would be a totally super cute one and they would let me take it home with me afterwards for keeps and for putting up with the general high levels of crazy.

How badly wrong could one section go.

Right?

Blowing out a breath and wishing pretty uselessly that I had been more forceful earlier and flatly turned Vince down, I reluctantly tossed my clothing over the top of the partition, then wet my lips and steeled my nerve,

"I'm ready."

"You have to close your eyes."

Crap _._

I half-heartedly did it anyway and then called out to her for the second time.

"Yep, they're all closed now."

Behind me the curtain was pulled back slowly and presently there was the rustling of what I assumed _had_ to be a poofy dress and which I generally figured I was going to hate outright but had very little option but to try and put on. Fingers tapped my leg and I lifted a foot up and her hands helped to slowly guide me into the skirts, before pulling the dress up over my hip bones and then across my body.

It felt –

It felt _evening gown_ long and instantly my vision of a short cocktail dress melted clean off since instead I was being helped into what seemed to be something traditional or a long slinky number _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ style. Hands found mine and then slipped the sleeves over before pulling them until the neck fell straight across my collarbone so that it sat off the shoulder and then was pulled in tighter as the hook-and-eyes at the back were fastened up. My newfound stylist followed that by gathering my hair up and then she twisted it before clipping it neatly in place before finally putting something over the top of my temples that I assumed was a garland or tiara of some sort. Maybe Vince _did_ know ladies' fashion wear after all, because I certainly felt like the belle of the ball. Behind me the girl stepped back and cleared her throat a bit and I paused a little awkwardly,

"Um, can I look now?"

"Mmhmm."

Blinking back into the light left me speechless and for a second I assumed that I was simply seeing things, because I wasn't in an Aubrey Hepburn dress in the slightest but instead in an actual white, full length bridal gown.

"What the fuck?" I bit out in pure astonishment managing to sound totally like my fiancé, but beyond that the words stayed stuck in my gullet because the thing was too beautiful to truly take in. In terms of bling and other gaudy accessories, the frock I was wearing had little to none and was instead covered from the neck to the toes in lace detailing which sat over long underskirts and then thinned out across my front creating a subtle and elegant mesh area that made me feel super feminine and unsurprisingly, like a bride. I blinked at it for probably about a minute without moving, then looked up into the mirror towards my stylist with a frown,

"Why would they want me to – ,"

I stopped dead then gulped a little at the reflection of the woman who had helped me get dressed, but who was not the nervy girl I had reluctantly complied to earlier and was instead my much loathed and wicked stepmother.

It was Steph.

I gaped at her and she smiled as she noted the recognition and then tipped her head a little to the left hand side, like she was admiring the look she had helped to manufacture before reaching across to tuck back a strand of my hair.

"Well now, I must you say look quite the picture and if I was the sort of person that had regular human emotions then I might even feel a little bit proud."

In response I twisted myself from her grasp pretty violently and then backed up so quickly that I slammed into the mirror stand and then nearly sent it toppling over because naturally what I needed was seven years more bad luck.

"What – what are you doing here?" I spluttered in both alarm and frustration, "What's going on and why am I wearing this?"

My stepmother moved in and took me gently by the elbows and for a baffled split second I even let her make the hold because I was literally too stunned to really function in real time and so therefore then found myself stumbling forward as she lead me out from the sectioned off dressing room.

"Sweetie – ,"

How long had been since she'd last called me that?

It was like having a flashback to six months before, when she and I had been both friends and true family members and when I had phoned her up to have girly sort of chats and had told her secrets and talked about my ex-boyfriend and had generally trusted her with the innermost fabric of my life and which then filled me with a sense of total nostalgia that was probably misplaced because all of that was done now.

"Sweetie," Steph continued, "Isn't it obvious why you're wearing that?"

I blinked,

"Because I – I'm engaged?"

Big eyes fluttered back at me and she chuckled like I was amusing her before making me walk a few tentative steps more. Blowing out a breath she shook her head wryly and then clicked her tongue regretfully as her fingers tightened up,

"Lauren, I think you would agree that we have tried with you, but everything we've done you threw back in our face."

Fury spiked inside me,

"You knocked me out and _kidnapped_ me."

It was a memory harsh enough to slam on the brakes and suddenly make my senses flood back in hot panic because why was I letting her touch and guide me? Um no. I pulled back against her, trying to pull loose my forearms but finding that she was surprisingly powerful and stumbling forwards as she gave me a wrench. Any ease in her tones fell away pretty swiftly and a quick flash of irritation flickered over her face as the pair of us clumsily moved from the partition and back out into the body of the room.

"You know," Steph spat, "I think we probably could have handled the fact that you and Dean were together and shacked up, but there is no way in _hell_ we can let this marriage happen and taint the McMahon-Helmsley bloodline not to mention this company."

I struggled,

"Get off – ,"

Pulling back with all the limited strength I had left in me I finally succeeded in wrenching myself loose but the force of which surprised me enough to knock me backwards at which point I crashed into a tall, firm chest. Pivoting round I gaped in bewilderment at my father, who was standing right behind me looking both angry and choked up and realizing that he too was in on whatever the hell was happening, I tried to lunge for the door –

He grabbed me and held me in place.

"Let me go, _please_ , you – you can't do this."

Not that I knew precisely what _this_ was but I knew that whatever happened it would probably be terrible and I knew that with pretty much every fibre I had. In response to my pleas, Hunter's gaze flickered mildly but then hardened into granite.

"This is best for everyone, you'll see."

* * *

 **So what exactly do they have in mind for our girl (except for something really not good)? Check back in three days!**


	17. Shotgun Wedding

**Here comes the big plan then. What do Steph and Hunter have in store? Hint: I started watching WWE in the late 90's when the crazy was high so…bear that in mind!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Now it wouldn't be the Stephanie and Hunter we know and love if they just let Dean and Lauren win would it? Because those two will always have something up their sleeves! Best heels in the business by a country mile. They're just so good being bad and crazy and I think this is** _ **maybe**_ **the craziest they've ever been!**

 **Skovko, Haha, well either you know me or the product too well, because you might be right on that guess. But hey, I feel like WWE has been a bit tame recently so this is the kind of insane that they need. Plus it leads to a whole lot of interesting things before the rest of the story of it out. Especially the finale so I have my reasons!**

 **Mandy, Thank you, I'm feeling a lot better and am back at work this week. Hope you're feeling better too. Summer colds are the worst and I feel like a failure because I never usually get them! Good news for you in this chapter though, because a certain two-toned miscreant might pop up here. I know you've missed him!**

 **Moxley Gal1, Well I hate to let you down…so I won't. Have you snuck onto my computer and read this chapter in advance? Either that or maybe we're working on telepathy. Either way this chapter hopefully has everything you could need/want. Plus it sets up the last couple of chapters and a huge decision that our favourite couple make.**

 **Debwood-1999, Feeling much better thank you but I will say that whooping cough totally sucks! Luckily I have shaken it (thanks antibiotics) so am back on my feet! Don't worry, Lauren definitely makes it clear in this chapter that she is not on board with the McMahon family games but is hard to do when you're outnumbered like she is. Drama…**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Hmmmm, maybe, but does it happen or is it stopped? That is the million dollar question in this one. Hope you like it though. I like a nice dramatic peak!**

 **DannyPhantom619, Haha, this is total Attitude Era, all the way! But I guess if it ain't broke don't fix it! But yeah, Dean is certainly going to be all kinds of angry when he finds out what's going down or** _ **attempting**_ **to go down. I can never just give the poor guy an ordinary day!**

 **Labinnacslove, Ick, brother-sister love! I think Seth would be as horrified as Lauren on that one. Maybe it would even be enough to make him give up his quest for the belt? Nah. Maybe not. Either way there is a wedding in progress. Hope you like who the proposed actual groom is though (by which I mean I hope you hate it because he's** _ **ick**_ **too!)**

 **Minnie1015, Haha, this** _ **is**_ **you reviewing! Not to worry though, technology sucks. The number of times I have not got my full orders because I thought I hit a button but obviously missed. I feel the pain! Looks like your guess might be good too but you'll have to read and find out…**

 **LunaticxLass, Ding ding, you're right but I'm not going to spoil the surprise of which of our lovely bachelors Lauren is being matched up with until we get to it! However it is safe to assume though that our Deano will not be happy about it in the least. Maybe we'll see a hint of Mox?**

 **Okay, lots of high drama then…**

* * *

 **Shotgun Wedding**

Before I had time to even figure what was happening I was physically hauled from the room I had been tricked into and then towed along the corridor trying my best to kick out. My plan was to trip up Hunter and force him to free me but thanks to the wedding dress it was impossibly hard, because the train of the thing was so long and floaty that all I really did was trip up myself and so resorted instead to trying to plant my heels in and mould myself to the carpet –

Unfortunately not even that worked.

Plan B therefore was calling for help loudly which I utilized in tandem with the other two things, hauling in a long breath and then trying to let a yell out which Stephanie stopped dead by clamping my mouth with her hand.

"Be quiet."

Oh yeah, like _that_ was going to happen.

Instead it made me try to call out _more_ , mumbling pathetically underneath her hot palm and fighting like a wild thing as I was hauled further into the arena bowels.

My entire system was bursting with panic and adrenaline and cold shivers and a million other responses as well, until my head was spinning and I felt breathless with the exertion and the need to bust out of there and get myself to somewhere safe.

I shook my head and moved her hand a little,

"Please– ,"

But in a second the clamp was back again and accompanied by her also poking her nails in as she tried to get herself a far better grip. I had literally no idea where the hell they were taking me and had visions of being loaded into the back of a van and then being transported about a thousand miles away like I had been the first time and then locked up again and –

 _Oh god no_.

On no plane of reality could I go through that hell again, because I absolutely and completely was not even remotely strong enough and I knew that with every last fibre of my being. My lungs were heaving but thanks to my stepmother's grip on me and the fact that she had managed to half cover my nose, I was barely sucking in the oxygen that I needed and so I was starting to feel foggy-headed and weak. I could vaguely tell that we were heading the towards the ring again though and for a second that filled my brain with hope, since it meant they weren't trying to haul me away completely and so that seemed like a good thing –

Oh wait.

Nope.

Except for all the crowds and the fact that I was wearing and actual _wedding_ _gown_ that I kept tripping up over like I was playing dress up in adult clothes and which hinted at some sort of ritual humiliation or batcrap crazy scheme using me as the pawn.

Stephanie hissed over my head,

"Remember the plan here, we're going to have to move quickly on this if we're going to get it done before Ambrose and Reigns show up."

My heart leapt a teeny tiny little bit at that statement since it proved they knew in the same way I did that my boys would come through for me and help break things up and that thought even fuelled me with enough sudden conviction that I was finally able to lift my foot up and catch it on the big broad tread of my father who cursed out loudly and then even stumbled, which loosened up his too tight grip. Instantly I swung myself round in the corridor and tried to push Stephanie back while bellowing like mad,

"Somebody help – ,"

But it turned out after a lifetime spent recoiling from punches and kicks and presses, my father recovered plenty fast and launched in from behind to pin both my arms again as Stephanie hustled back in to replace her cold hand.

Hunter seemed actually mildly distressed by it,

"Lauren, you're making this harder on yourself, I don't want to hurt you so maybe you could just try this walking without us having to drag you huh?"

Nope.

Did he seriously think that I would suddenly slap my forehead and agree to play nice purely because he had asked me to or like I owed him my respect or an ounce of authority when had grabbed me and frightened me and broken my heart? In response to him I let out an angry little grunt noise and then tried again to pull my arms back and trip him up again but the dress folds had fallen and twisted at my ankles and so once more I only managed to tangle my own feet up instead.

How was nobody around us hearing it?

Usually backstage was full of folk bustling around and yet typically the one time I genuinely needed someone – _anyone_ – there wasn't another soul for a million miles.

Stephanie grunted,

"The hard way it is then."

Between they continued to pull me again and we stumbled past the trolleys and packing crates and pallets until I could gradually hear the roar of the crowd and the weird sort of rustling sound caused by thousands of people waiting restlessly for something and shifting about. My heart flipped over because whatever they were planning I was only a few steps away from finding out and in the moment blissful ignorance seemed so much more preferable.

Stephanie snapped at someone,

"Play the music _now_."

I was hauled across the threshold into gorilla and then clumsy between the chairs and baffled looking staff who gaped but made no other moves to help me since they were likely too frightened or else too bewildered to think right. Matty was standing open-mouthed in horror but at least he knew the right thing to do and so as I was physically forced towards the curtain to the rampway, he threw me a soothing look and then slid off from the back.

Dean.

He was going to hunt down my fiancé and hustle him back to save me.

It helped my heart a bit –

But only a bit because then the music kicked in suddenly and scared me pretty much halfway to death. Beside me my stepmother took her hand from my mouth at last and then used it to straighten out the wrinkles in her suit before clamping my other arm so that I was being held on both sides and then smiling at her husband,

"Are you ready sweetie?"

"I hate you both."

In spite of my brutally spat out little statement, I couldn't stop either of them proudly stepping out, hauling me between them like some sort of overly-dressed ragdoll and probably also looking like one hell of a hot mess as well.

I wasn't kidding –

Because even though I was wearing a beautiful white wedding gown which had a lace train flowing behind me and showed off my collarbone and neck, I was also pretty sure the hair that Stephanie had pinned up had pretty much fallen with all the fighting I had done and I could feel the tiara or the garland or whatever slipping back every time I tried to buck myself loose.

But then again, how perfect was anyone supposed to look when being towed down a rampway by two people they despised?

I kept on struggling,

"Dean is going to kill you – Roman too – don't think they won't."

Stephanie snorted,

"If they make it out in time to stop things."

I tried to grind my heels in but they merely skated me across the mats and past the many fans hanging over the barricades and booing and cussing at the older pair.

"Ugh – stop _what_?"

Instead of giving me an actual answer, Stephanie beamed and fixed her eyes on the ring and for the first time since we had stepped out into the arena, I followed her gaze and then blinked in horror.

Um, what the hell?

In between me going to get dressed minutes earlier and being unceremoniously dragged out again, a team of what I assumed had to be pixies had given the ring a full makeover of sorts. Instead of the plain white canvas that I was used to, a red carpet had been laid out over the top and a table had been set up beside one of the turnbuckles that appeared to be holding a multiple levelled cake. In the centre of the ring there was a flower-strewn white archway and a man standing beneath it looking uncertain as hell but holding a book in his hands and dressed smartly in a suit and tie like a pastor might wear.

I gasped,

"No way – ,"

I had to be dreaming things because it _looked_ like they had set up a wedding for me and which frankly would have seemed a lot more preposterous had I not been wearing the quintessential white bridal gown and being frog marched out towards it like a prisoner.

But who the hell were they marrying me to?

Movement to one side of the ring caught my attention and so too did the sudden flash of a golden looking box as Seth fell into view in his ridiculous black suit combo and a hangdog expression that honestly didn't sit very well.

I tried to bust free again,

"Lauren – ,"

"I'm not marrying him, this is crazy – _you're_ crazy – I can't marry _Seth_."

Stephanie snorted,

"You think that's the plan here? Then I guess it's true what they say about having beauty but no brains, except for me of course because luckily I have both of them."

I stumbled a little as they reached a sudden halt and then lurched when I realized we were right in front of the ring ropes and that somehow they expected me to haul myself and the dress in, but which I was less convinced about doing since I had been kidnapped and didn't want to be there at all. My father moved himself suddenly beside me and bent low before tipping me over his shoulder in a single fluid motion that was so abrupt I actually screamed.

"Wha – no, put me down – ,"

I banged on his kidneys and tried to hammer his soft flesh with my pathetic little fists but was powerless to stop him from climbing up the ring steps and then somehow manoeuvring us both through the ropes. Frankly it would have been quite impressive had I not been upside down and being taken to my doom and so the modicum of surprise that came from his handling was instantly replaced by overwhelming fear,

"Let me go, let me _go_ – ,"

He flipped me back onto my feet again and I stumbled as my world tipped and then almost fell back. Hard hands caught me and pressed tight into my hip bones until I actually gasped at what would fast become finger marks and which were so far removed from the way Dean held my lower half that I almost broke down crying for him right there.

 _Ugh_.

In the end however I merely twisted a little to try and scowl off my new handler.

Randy Orton was staring back and I felt my throat seize up like he had grabbed it as my whole body became stiff and then ran cold in horrified shock. Earlier when I had seen him scowling over the ropes at me, he had been wearing his much hated black wrestling trunks but at some point he too had been visited by the pixies because he had changed into an actual full three-piece suit, with a waistcoat and a bowtie and a carnation in his pocket like he was going to a wedding or getting married –

Oh no, oh no.

No, no, no.

It wasn't happening.

Hunter and Stephanie were going to marry me to _him_.

Frantic little spots of panic-based brightness began to instantly explode across my eyes and I could feel myself beginning to feel steadily fainter as the fear and anxiety levels went through the roof and then put so much pressure on my system that everything started to try and bale out. I even lightly began to feel myself swaying before blinking back the panic and making myself stand firm.

Randy smirked at me,

"White kinda suits you, told you I'd see you later huh?"

He was still clinging onto my waist like a limpet but on the plus side at least, that meant both my hands were still free and so before I even really knew what I was thinking, I reined back a palm and hit him hard across the cheek, so hard in fact that his head snapped sideways and the force of the blow actually stung my own skin, but produced a smack that was sharp and brutal and so therefore totally worth the ensuing minor throbbing pain.

"Get the hell away from me," I screamed at him angrily, plunging my nails into his hands to coerce him off and then trying to grate the skin from his knuckles which he hissed at and which also seemed to completely piss him off,

 _Good_.

Stephanie clapped her hands briskly at the pastor who was watching the scene with a measure of pure alarm and who flinched in response as her shrill tones broke the tension like someone had inadvertently stepped on a cat.

"Start."

"No," I pleaded, turning towards him and then finding myself being clamped and pulled back as Randy moved forward and pressed an arm around me to haul me against his chest and his body and his –

Ick.

"Too late babe, you should have seen this coming."

"Get _off_ me, I hate you, I _hate_ you – I don't want this."

Not being the most religious of people, I had no idea how marriage ceremonies were supposed to play out, but I was pretty convinced that both members had to be willing and so therefore could not figure out for the actual life of me why the pastor hadn't put a stop to the sham or refused to take part on the basis of kidnapping or bride-based distress.

Instead he swallowed and opened the book,

"Dearly beloved – ,"

"No," I called out frantically, casting around the ring, "Hunter – _Dad_ – please don't. Seth – Seth I know things are different now and messed up but you can't let them do this to me _please_ help."

In response to my missives Hunter bit his lip pretty heavily but looked away resolutely and so therefore didn't flicker once and so in my panic I had turned to the last person there with us and the streaky blonde-haired man I had once loved so very much. Seth by contrast was looking right at me and as I bawled out my plea he swallowed and then looked down, his whole body screamed regret or more likely swirling conflict but the one thing he didn't do at any point was move.

I was all on my own.

"No," I sobbed openly, trying to struggle against Randy's arms and hating the way his body felt behind me and hating his touch and everything in between.

How in the world could it be actually happening?

I was going to wake up right?

I _had_ to wake up.

In front of us the pastor was tugging guiltily at his neckline and I wondered very briefly what dirt Hunter and Steph had found on him or what kind of hold they had to make him participate in such plain insanity. Maybe they had his child tied up and suspended over a shark tank or something, since there was quite literally nothing I wouldn't put past them. Maybe they had simply offered him a bunch of money to pay off the gambling debts he had been stealing from the church? Maybe the man was simply a pussy? Either way the fact was that he was actually doing it and stumbling and fudging his way through the sham of a ceremony while the bride kicked and screamed and tried to twist out.

"We are gathered here today in the sight of God to – ,"

Stephanie interrupted with a hand flap,

" _Hurry up_."

He fumbled uncertainly over several pages which I honestly figured that he probably should have known since weddings – forced or otherwise – had to be his bread and butter. Or maybe he was nervous about the constant booing of the crowd. He flinched as a cup of soda was tossed at him missing only by an inch.

He found the page then cleared his throat,

"Do you Lauren Hope take this man Randy Orton to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

I opened my mouth,

"No – ,"

In reality however I only managed half the syllable since The Viper's hand quickly slapped in over my mouth, cutting off both my answer and my desperate head shakes as I tried to call things off the only real way I could.

Stephanie smiled sweetly,

"Of course she does, next question."

Had they all sat down one night and watched _Robin Hood Prince of Thieves_? Because that was quite literally the only explanation I could come up with as to why they would have settled on their plan unless they had happened on the Dukes of Hazzard episode where Daisy was forcibly married to some hillbilly man. What was even the reasoning behind it? Was it solely to tie me to their crooked gang? Maybe it was to make Dean so jealous that he would leave me or else a last ditch attempt to make me see Randy Orton as _the one_.

None of it would work.

How could they ever think that when the man had tried to rape me?

My father knew that.

I squeaked my panic and horror through the fingers and then tried my best to buck and fight out but Randy had always been crazy strong and pretty ruthless and so he simply squeezed tighter and pressed his groin towards my ass. Seth looked across and I caught his eyes frantically, pleading for him to step in and do the right thing and watching his brown eyes ripple with fury which I couldn't figure out the base cause for.

He couldn't be angry at me?

Possibly.

Likely he thought I had brought things on myself or been stupid and falling into another trap laid by my father and honestly on that point he was probably right. From in front of us _Pastor Asshole_ as I had chosen to call him continued with a quiver,

"Randy Orton, do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife? To have and to hold, to – ,"

"Yeah yeah whatever, make it legal already."

I shivered then shook my head but given that my part had already been said for me and the crooked little preacher had taken things that far, I strongly doubted my silent plea would even touch him and it turned out that I was right since he followed that up with a cough.

"Um, okay then, in that case by the authority vested in me by the state of Indiana – ,"

I closed my eyes.

 _Oh god_.

In another split second I would be married to Randy and although I wanted to believe it wouldn't be binding I knew that Stephanie's lawyers would have made sure it was and would have probably thrown in a few ironclad clauses and a horrible agreement that I would be physically forced to sign. I looked towards the ramp needing Dean to come in flying and Roman too to make them all stop, because if he didn't then our lives together would be in jeopardy and so too would the marriage I had been blissfully dreaming of.

 _Mom please, I need your help_.

But what could she do?

"I now pronounce you – ,"

He broke off with a grunting sound which was also accompanied by a solid sort of thud and when I blinked my eyes open in a measure of confusion it was to see the crooked minister bent over and turning bright red with pain as a familiar golden briefcase swung back from his ribcage where it had momentarily been buried.

I couldn't believe it.

Seth.

Seth Rollins had interrupted the pivotal line of the wedding and in so doing had straight up saved me from a fate worse than death and nor was I the only one blindsided by the movement since Randy let his hand drop away from my face and Hunter stuttered for a second then bellowed loudly,

"What in the – what did you go and pull a stunt like that for?"

Stephanie was more implicit and ear-piercing,

"Have you gone mad?"

I had to agree since the move seemed suicidal in terms of upsetting their new mega-heel team and but it also gave me hope that he had finally seen the light and wanted to be back with his brothers and me again and travelling on the road with us and playing the yellow car game and simply being the Seth that we had known and loved.

Mostly I was hoping he would start swinging at them –

Instead however he threw up his hands like he was pissed off with _all_ of us.

"Come on, this isn't the shit I signed up for, I signed up to win titles not being the extra in some family soap opera or whatever the hell this crazy is. Besides, what the hell is this even achieving? I'm all about the business but this freaking _nuts_."

Looking back he had always had low tolerance for drama.

But then neither was his statement a parting of ways and instead it seemed more like he was pissed by a distraction that he thought might take away from him ending up on top and which I might have even believed had I been more cynical. Except that I wasn't and never really had been and so I knew that a part of Seth still cared a little bit for me and still carried around the big brother instinct that he had built up over our time on the road and so therefore _also_ probably still cared for his brothers even if he had managed to convince himself otherwise.

In short, he was still in there like I always kind of hoped he was.

Hunter blew a sigh out,

"Steph maybe he's right, I mean even for us this is all kinds of messed up."

My stepmother however was very much _not_ on side which she demonstrated by opening and closing her lip-glossed mouth up and then adopting the sort of glower that would have turned mortal men to rock like some sort of mythical, snake-headed goddess who could also deafen people with her unnatural banshee tones,

" _What_? Hunter this is how things have to be and you know that."

My father blinked a little and then looked across at me, still pinned up against Randy Orton's foul body and with watery eyes and a crooked garland in my hair. It made something in him flicker, like a paternal sort of instinct which then fled and returned so fast I could barely keep track. He seemed like he was fighting some sort of inner battle between wanting to get the better of Dean and Roman but needing to be a parent as well and I genuinely held my breath to see which way he would go with it, but which was then thankfully cut off as the crowd cheered and leapt up.

Dean was sprinting down the ramp –

Dean and Roman.

I let out a giggle which surprised even myself because technically I probably should have been bawling or screaming instead of letting loose a smile. But then how could I not have responded with happiness at the sight of the cavalry?

He always came through.

In response to their appearance and pretty rapid trajectory, my stepmother wisely chose to hustle from the ring and so too did Seth on the pretence of looking after her while my father tensed his fists up and turned to face the incoming men.

"Damn it," Randy hissed fiercely from behind me and I startled because I had briefly forgotten that he was there, even though his fingers were still holding me so tightly that I was pretty sure they were going to leave a big bruise.

I sneered at him proudly,

"Looks like you lost asshole, might want to leave before my fiancé beats you down and then lets his brother pick over what's left of you."

It was probably among the most ballsy things I had ever said and I actually chuckled like some sort of total mega bitch before realizing that I shouldn't have tried it at all because that would never be me. Randy growled in my ear and then shook me,

"Shut up."

"Ouch – ,"

He hauled me over to the preacher, who was still lightly probing his midsection with his fingers like he was checking for internal bleeding after being battered with the case and then flashed out a hand to grab him by the collar and push him back beneath the archway,

"Finish the damn ceremony."

Huh?

Hunter was still braced for the impact of my fiancé but if the pastor got the line out it wouldn't matter anyway and so I turned towards the ramp and screamed until my lungs burst in a warning to hurry up that rattled round the ring.

" _Dean_."

Following my shout and the direction of my bellowing, the pained little pastor somewhat confusedly turned his head and then seemingly for the first time took stock of the incoming back-up including the big man with the hellacious tattoo and an expression that would have curled milk in the udder, not to mention my genuinely murderous looking man.

He faltered,

"Um – ,"

" _Finish it_ ," Randy screamed at him and seeing that his attentions were focused on the minster and therefore not so much on me anymore, I performed a sudden violent twisting manoeuvre that managed to tear my arm from his grasp and possibly also dislocated my shoulder, although in the moment I honestly couldn't have cared about that. For a second though I stood in a sort of bewildered freeze frame, because I wasn't able to tell if I was free from him or not, but gradually realization floated down through the ether and I turned and tried to run which worked for a second but no more since his reach was long and ridiculously speedy, not to mention that I was wearing the world's most stupidly long dress.

Randy stepped on it –

He genuinely stepped on it and planted his big polished boot on the train and the shock of sudden total lack of momentum threw me so off balance that I toppled to one side so completely very _not_ gracefully that the next thing I knew I had crashed to the floor.

"Oof – ,"

Randy stomped towards me and I made myself little,

"Get up, we're getting this damn thing done."

Beneath me the mat bounced harshly and suddenly and while initially I assumed it was The Viper pounding in, the roar of the crowd and the violence of its flexing clued me in suddenly to what it actually was and I looked up with raw hope in the exact same moment that Dean went barrelling into Randy hard and with an actual furious yell of exertion as the pair of them tangled up and then went toppling to the floor. My fiancé was a writhing mass of fists and bile and sinew, getting the best of the grappling in a flash and then beginning to punch for all he was worth, growling as he did and his fists pretty much flying as he battered Randy's head with uncoordinated windmill hits. Looking around at more bouncing beside me, I took in Roman standing over by the ropes and clearly throwing visual daggers at my father who seemed a bit dishevelled and was being supported by Steph and occasionally tapping at his lip in a blood check which let me know with a grin that he had taken a direct hit.

"Motherfuckin' scum-suckin' wannabe rapist bastard – ,"

Dean was still swinging like he was in a boxing tournament and had at some point changed back into his leather jacket too which he stripped off with purpose as he suddenly stood up, willing a dazed and bloodied Randy to follow him so he could end their brutal showdown with a final knockout punch.

He never got the chance.

Because without any warning Seth suddenly shot his arms in and hauled his buddy Randy back to the relative safety of outside which simultaneously surprised and also disheartened me since there went my hopes of him wanting to put things right. Evidently he still wasn't ready to give up the gravy train but he had proved that he cared and for the moment that was enough. Dean bumped the ropes and clambered halfway up them so that he was bobbing on the bottom rung and leaning over the top,

"Come back and fight me like a man y' damn coward."

Roman was standing tall beside him as well and both of them struck such an intimidating presence that being in amongst them was the only thing I would ever want and so I turned myself with a hiss onto my kneecaps and then cursed as my dress got all tangled,

" _Ugh_ you stupid thing – ,"

"Princess?"

Dean was heading towards me probably having heard my pity clothing groans and he then lowered into a low squat in front me before planting his big warm hands on my arms in the loving and supportive way that Randy had _not_ done.

God I could have cried his touch was so nice.

"Dean, I'm so sorry I – I had no idea, I – I just thought that it was going to be a cocktail dress or something and there was a girl from the wardrobe department there as well but she said that I couldn't look because the outfit was a surprise and – and I guess that at that point Hunter and Stephanie must have come in because when I opened my eyes I was wearing this _thing_ and both of them were stood there and then – then they hauled me out here and I was yelling and screaming but no one could hear me and then the pastor and the ceremony – ,"

Hands found out my cheek bones and then cupped them warmly,

"Hey, _hey_ , slow down, easy."

I blinked up into his worried blue orbs rapidly and then all at once inhaled a breath, holding it briefly like I wanted to memorize it and everything about him before blowing it out again.

"Seth saved me – well – I mean sort of, otherwise I – I would be married by now."

I let out a shudder as I issued the word out and Dean grunted a little like he wasn't too sold on that or the role his former younger brother had played in it, but luckily thought better of hashing the matter out as he instead seized up my hands and then stood upright,

"Come on, let's get you the fuck outta that thing."

It turned out that standing was almost impossible because no matter where I planted my feet or even tried to, there was about a metre of white material pinning me down and to be honest it was looking like I would have to get naked until a second pair of hands lifted up me from the waist,

"There you go baby girl, that's quite the wedding dress huh?"

Roman was smiling with a bewildered sort of look, which I couldn't blame him for since even by our bizarre standards the marriage-that-wasn't ranked pretty high in _what-in-the-hell._ Dean swept in the second I was upright and wrapped his arm around my hips, guiding me evenly over the canvas as I scrabbled to pick up the front of the dress, realizing belatedly that I hadn't even thought about borrowed, blue things, old and new.

I blinked in a minor stupor,

"What about commentary? Maybe I should go back and – ,"

"The show's over baby girl, that crazy ass ceremony was their big main event deal."

"It was?"

"Uh huh."

I sounded mystified,

"Oh."

In response to it Dean let out a growl of frustration but turned and used his free palm to pillow my head, pressing it in towards his lips as he aggressively kissed my temple and then uttered the magic words,

"I'm gettin' you outta here."

* * *

 **Next chapter Lauren and Dean talk through their options then get over the shock the only way they know how...**


	18. A Not Quite Wedding Night

**Time for the fallout of the wedding-that-wasn't then and I think it's time for our favourite couple to reconnect (if you know what I mean). One more chapter after this one and then we're done…I mean until the next time of course!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, I'm loving teasing Seth in these stories but I feel like there has to be a vestige of the old Seth in there somewhere trying to break back out. Going to expand on that a bit in the next few stories too. But of course Dean would be there in the nick of time (just!)**

 **Skovko, Seth is so conflicted and I love it because it means more to probe into at a later date. I have plans! Interesting Dean kind of has the same idea as you about it being safer for Lauren to marry him sooner rather than later. But he's forgetting it tends to be a bigger deal for a girl.**

 **Debwood-1999, The thought of her married to Randy turns both Lauren and Dean's stomachs too so you're in good company with that one! Haha, well, I like your bluntness and I will say that you are 50% right. Besides, Lauren would hate being married in front of the whole world and especially by** _ **that**_ **pastor!**

 **Mandy, Haha, that made me laugh! I should have inserted you in climbing over the barricade from the crowd to marry Seth yourself! But yeah, the boy is still in there and he's going to be struggling with his choices in the next couple of stories too. Sorry your cold is still lingering. Hate when they do that, just go already!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Yep, Seth still has some little pieces of the old him tucked away in there, even if he tries to pretend otherwise. We know better! Not even he wants to see Lauren married to horrible Randy. Ick. Hunter and Steph are free to meddle another day unfortunately (like always!)**

 **LunaticxLass, Seth still cares but doesn't want to make it too obvious that he does, so he still saved Randy. I think our little turncoat might be in denial, still, means that hope is not all lost and he can maybe become the Seth we know and love again down the road…**

 **ShieldGirlBecky, Haha, clearly you know me too well, but hey, I figure they need this chapter as much as anyone because certain activities are a great stress reliever! Agreed, if Seth cares for Lauren (grudgingly) then the same is true of his brothers too (deep down!)**

 **Minnie1015, Yeah, Seth can pretend all he wants to, but when the chips are down he cannot ignore his old feelings. Still, gives me something to develop going forward into future stories I guess. Love me some good continuity after all!**

 **Labinnacslove, Steph will never give up! Until she wins she will keep trying out crackpot schemes and snide little enterprises and dragging Hunter in with her. I mean, she is her father's daughter after all! Luckily Lauren has her boys for backup!**

 **Penultimate chapter…**

* * *

 **A Not Quite Wedding Night**

Roman went to look for my clothes once we were backstage since I honestly had no clue as to where they had gone and since I also refused to step foot outside the building in a wedding dress with my hair in pretty wild disarray.

Dean grumbled the whole way back to their locker room,

"I mean seriously, what the fuck even _was_ that? Because I know they've pulled some pretty wild shit before now but tryin' to force someone to – like – _marry_ their worst enemy? That is some totally messed up bull crap right there. Did they just fuckin' get through watchin' Princes of Thieves last night or somethin'?"

I blinked at him a little and then smiled,

"Hey, I said that."

But largely because he was so busy muttering he managed to completely miss my little chime and so I then fell quiet and let him tow me along the hallway with one hand holding my plethora of white silken layers up while the one sat firmly and securely in his. Luckily because the wedding-that-wasn't had been the super big chaotic climax to the show, most of the roster had showered and headed back to their hotel rooms and so the levels of staring I attracted were happily few. Plus those people still milling around backstage seemed to know better than to tangle with Dean, who was ranting to himself like a recently released madman and so thankfully probing eyes were largely kept to themselves.

"I mean one minute I'm back here about to take a fuckin' shower an' the next thing I know fuckin' Matt comes flyin' in talkin' about weddin' dresses and ministers an' all that shit an' I take look up at the screen an' see you bein' hauled out there – ,"

Huh.

It seemed like Matty had saved things after all by raising the alarm and getting my fiancé at a run. Based on that I owed him a coffee, or a whole box of luxury chocolates or some flowers at least.

"I – I'm really sorry I scared you."

"They're fuckin' crazy – like – the whole McMahon family is totally certifiably _insane_. I mean they make my mom look like freakin' Mary Poppins an' I think we both know how fuckin' hard _that_ is."

I sure did.

Dean was walking at the pace he usually adopted whenever he was on the edge or else massively pissed off and which was halfway between a stride and cheetah-on-the-hunt fast and which I was forced to sort of trot to in order to keep up with. Somewhere past catering a fold of my many underskirts fell from my fingers and I trod on the stupid thing and staggered inelegantly,

"Crap – ,"

It was entirely likely I would have fallen onto my face too had Dean not blinked himself rapidly from his ranting and then tensed his arm to hold me up.

"Whoa, you okay?"

"Uh huh, but this dress is too long."

He snorted,

"Princess that dress is a whole _bunch_ 'a things and so the sooner we get it off you and pretend this never happened the better the both of us are gonna fuckin' feel."

By the time we reached the door to the locker room, he had run out of things to mumble about and I therefore assumed we would simply step inside and then try to find me something halfway acceptable to put on until Roman managed to sniff out my real clothes. But instead of leading me over the threshold, after banging the thick wooden doorway wide, Dean suddenly turned around with such sudden motion that I bumped off his ribcage in a sexy bounce that I didn't mind.

I blinked at him,

"Um, are we not going in after all?"

Dean scratched at the back his head a little awkwardly,

"Not like this."

"Not like – huh?"

"Princess, trust me, I'm doin' the right thing here."

I was still frowning at him when he suddenly bent low in front of me and wound an arm around my waist before using his other one to sweep my legs up off the concrete and then grunting a little as he hitched me towards him in the super traditional –

 _Ohhhh_.

Bridal pose.

Dean was intentionally carrying me across the threshold like the pair of us had just gotten married for ourselves and even though that part of things had unfortunately not happened, the fact that he was pretending it had done was so sweet that I laughed, throwing my head back and then giggling like an idiot as he turned us sideways so as not to bang my legs and then walking us into the locker room easily trying to fight back a grin of his own. I dragged my fingernails lightly through the stubble slowly growing longer on the back of his neck and he leaned into the touch and even shut his eyes briefly with a happy little grumble as I whispered into his ear,

"You're the best not-quite-husband I've ever had, I hope you know that?"

"Right back atcha baby, 'cept change the _husband_ part to _wife_."

"Haha."

Rolling my eyes I slapped him lightly on the shoulder and he lowered me gently back onto the floor, releasing the many layers of the poor misused wedding dress which then re-found its shape instantly half pooled on the floor. Dean was looking at me sort of appraisingly and I frowned and then offered him up a shy little grin, to which he blew out an actual wolf whistle that caught me by surprise,

" _Damn_ Princess."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin' it's just – it's just that dress looks fuckin' perfect – like – the lace an' the curves an' you lookin' all gorgeous an' I mean, it's honestly makin' me feel like we _should_ do the whole big weddin' thing with the band an' the speeches an' you wearin' white an' shit."

"Really?"

He stepped towards me to put his hands across my hip bones and I instinctively moved in closer to be able to feel his touch, because after having been manhandled by my father and held back by Randy I needed some love and being between the palms of my hunky fiancé seemed to me like a pretty sweet balm. Dean still had traces of sweat from his match earlier clinging to his body and blending in with his aftershave notes so that the resulting combination was spicy and masculine and ever so slightly sticky and I liked it a lot. Leaning in he rested his forehead against me and I could feel his wettened bangs tickling lightly above my eyes and mingling in with the soft tips of my eyelashes like we were physically trying to meld into one.

 _Mmmm_.

If only.

Dean however then went one better by lowering his head and sweeping his face beneath mine before butting his lips up in a sudden hot contact that seized my mouth and knocked my head back.

"Uh."

I physically gasped a little at the manoeuvre because the passion of it had come right out of the blue, but I took less than a second to respond to it keenly as I fell in against him and wrapped my arms around his neck, flattening my palms across his scalp and tangling his hair up while pushing him harder and longer into my lips. His tongue sliced into my mouth in hot flashes and then pressed up strongly and controllingly against my own, tangling them up and probing and searching like a red hot poker that belonged to me and no one else.

I moaned into his mouth and the vibration shivered through us and tweaked at the front of his too tight wrestling pants, whereupon he broke from my lips a little breathlessly but with the best kind of hazy looking excitement in his eyes.

He nipped at my neckline,

"Princess, m' gonna take the feelin' of their hands away. Is that what you want baby?"

"Uh – uh huh, please."

I could barely even speak the sudden rush was so powerful and as he licked along my jawbone my knees began to tremble and I whimpered as a familiar tingling struck up way _down there_. His protective hold around my lower back tightened instantly and he grumbled against my earlobe,

"I gotcha baby, you're okay."

"I was s-so scared."

"Never gonna let 'em getcha."

"I love you – I love so much."

"So you fuckin' should."

I laughed and then covered my face a little bashfully as he started to suck tiny hickeys across my neck, but I could tell he was beaming from the curve of his lip line and it lifted the last remaining threads of nervousness off.

"Dirty girl," Dean murmured against me, beginning to shuffle us backwards towards the door and then pillowing my body with his arms as we hit the framework before fumbling to shut us in as I tiptoed up to reclaim his lips.

"What if somebody comes in while we're _smushing_?"

He flicked the lock then lifted a brow up,

"First of all never use that word again, 'kay baby? An' second of all I'm pretty sure we got this place to ourselves now."

"Oh, okay."

Dean snorted back then pressed himself closer so that his torso was squashed right up against my breasts, which gave him better access to the tender parts of my collarbone as he parted his legs a little and moved his groin in as well. His hardening bulge knocked against my belly through the lacework and I flung my head backwards and gasped breathlessly,

"I – I need these off, I'm taking them off now."

I was talking about and also tugging at his jean fronts and clumsily unbuckling the much needed belt, that I then whipped across the locker room much like a lasso which sent it flying into the cabinets with a resounding crash.

 _Oops_.

Dean snorted fondly against my jaw,

"Fuckin' disaster zone."

"Would you still want me if I was all boring and sane?"

"M' always gonna want you."

 _Ugh_.

He was too cute.

Ducking away from his lips with a giggle, I lowered into a squat as I peeled his waistband down, teasing the material over his beautiful thigh muscles and then planting a kiss on the inside of his leg. His boxer briefs twitched in response to the touches and so I grinned like a devil then pressed on a few more, tracing my way upwards in light little grazes before paying him back by adding in a tiny hickey of my own.

"Revenge huh? Didn't think that was really your style baby."

"Just proving that I'm still the best at sucking in this relationship."

He coughed and then his big blue eyes went wide,

"What the fuck is that dress doin' to ya?"

I remained on my knees blinking up coyly,

"Hmm, let's see."

Running my fingers up his thighs until he grunted, I curled my grip around the rim of his briefs and then inched them down to join the denim pooled at his kneecaps bringing the previously hidden, hardened bulge fully into view.

Holy wow.

Dean let loose a throaty sounding mumble and then palmed my hair frantically in hot anticipation,

"Princess, _fuck_ – ,"

Licking my hand I curled my fingers around him and began to massage them in a circle up and down. I pressed more kisses to the curve of his inner thigh too, fluttering my lips ever closer to his groin as he braced above me with a hand against the doorframe and merrily bit out happy curse after curse.

"Fuck, you lookin' so fuckin' pretty in white an' bein' so fuckin' good to me – so good."

Yep –

I was.

In response I continued to beautifully tease him by caressing his manhood until he was fully erect, then was about to swap hands as my fingers seized up on me when he hooked his forefinger beneath my chin,

"C' mere."

I rose up onto my feet unsteadily as I tried and failed not to step on the dress, but managed to stand pulling myself up his forearm until I finally ended up flushed but looking him in the face,

"Oh, hello, fancy meeting you here."

He launched in towards me and kissed me so fiercely that it literally ripped the breath out of my throat and I squeaked in surprise as his tongue ghosted my lip line like he was trying to figure out what my specific flavor was. His would have been spiced ginger for sure, although I honestly had no idea why that was and so instead I hummed happily into the contact and then reached a hand down to continue my careful strokes, even as stars began to light up my vision from lack of oxygen and as my lungs began to beautifully choke. Dean caught my fingers and then finally broke away from me with a mumble against my lips,

"Won't have anythin' left."

"Wow, I guess this dress really _does_ work then?" I teased lightly, whispering the words as we stood pressed head to head and which painted the moment with such genuine intimacy that we could have been anywhere and not just a sweaty locker room.

Blue eyes sparkled,

"Woulda worked better if you weren't wearin' it an' were naked instead."

"Oh, that's a very good point."

Feeling like an idiot I began to try and shuck the thing off but again Dean stopped the movements with a touch of his hand and a grin like he found my lack of thought adorable rather than a frustrating or embarrassing thing,

"Easy Princess, I got this, so you just follow my lead here okay?"

Honestly had he asked me to leap from the Empire State Building and into a wet rag I would have happily given it a try and so therefore simply stood still feeling breathless and buzzy as he lowered himself so we were eyeline to eyeline and then bundled up the lace before reaching beneath.

Oh?

His warm fingers efficiently found out my underwear and then carefully and one-handedly began to pull the brim down.

 _Ohhhh_.

He grinned as they slipped to the probably unclean floor tiles and then he leaned in to kiss the lacework covering my breasts, since that was where his beautiful shaggy head was, while his big loving hands were –

Um.

Definitely somewhere else.

Hooking up one of my legs beneath the kneecap he slung it to rest across his firm little butt and I rose high onto my tiptoes instinctively at the movement as he slid the copious folds of the wedding dress back, exposing me completely in a way that made me tremble but also come alive,

"You ready Princess?"

"Yes," I was _so_ far and away ready I was a quivering wreck of a woman, "Yes please."

"We not role playin' this time?"

"No – no, just us."

He grinned back wolfishly like he was pleased by the answer then readjusted his hold and eased himself in, while I clamped my raised heel hard into his ass cheek and shuffled on my other toes and moaned into his touch. He waited a second for everything to settle and then slowly and carefully began an even thrust, building the pace up sweetly but hungrily until his forehead was in my neckline and I was gasping to his grunts.

"Oh god, oh god yes,"

I buried my nails into him talon-like, leaving red trails over the length of his back and then bit my lip hard since I could no longer kiss him but still needed frantically to do something with my mouth. Beneath me the thrusting and grunting continued and I responded to the rhythm by syncing to the moves until our bodies were working in beautiful conjunction and everything was getting hotter and more tingly feeling and just _wow_.

"Princess, you close? I'm gonna – I'm gonna – ,"

I answered him by erupting in a sudden burst of pleasure, which had built until I could barely stand the blissful agony anymore and so let out a series of guttural sort of yelping sounds which then tailed into whimpers and fed his own spasms as well.

"Fuck."

He continued to work his hips for a second longer like he had forgotten that there was anything else he had ever done and each move brushed beautifully against my throbbing sweet spot and made me hiss and keen until he finally stopped.

 _Wow_.

Pulling back out he let the hold on my raised leg go and as it fell to the floor again limply I almost completely toppled over with it too, except his hands were straight on my hips like always, giving me support.

He kissed me fierce and hard,

"You're the best fuckin' thing about me, you know that? So if you wanna big white weddin' baby, then it's totally yours with all the bells an' whistles an' that shit."

"But what if I don't want one anymore? What if I want a beach somewhere like you suggested?"

"Bullshit."

"Why?"

Dean waved a hand in the air somewhere above us like he was ordering his reasonings into semblance or form but also threw in a patented shrug for good measure, as well as a tiny nose kiss which did things to my heart,

"Because you're way too apple pie and sweet for _unconventional_ , so of course you want place settings an' confetti an' butterflies."

"Butterflies?"

He shrugged,

"I'm – like – ninety percent sure that's a thing."

I laughed in response and then shook my head a little but I was also beaming ear to ear like a lovesick kid, because he always managed to make me happy and thankful no matter what was happening and no matter where we were. But beneath it there was another weight pulling pretty heavily because over the course of the evening my position had changed and I no longer wanted the big wedding that he was describing since there were too many things and people who wouldn't be there and their absences would be glaring and impossible to bear. My mom most importantly, but Hunter too would be missing and who would walk me down the aisle if it wasn't for him?

Maybe therefore having an aisle wasn't important.

Maybe _none_ of it was as long as I had Dean.

I bit my lip and tried to form that into a sentence as I absently stroked at the hair on his arm and traced little patterns across his skin like a doodle pad in the way I knew he liked and which also helped to calm me down.

"I – I think I'm over the whole _big wedding_ extravaganza anyway – you know – given what happened tonight in the ring. It – it kind of feels like they've maybe ruined it a little and so I guess having those things isn't important anymore. I mean, not that I really even wanted them in the first place, mostly I think I thought I _should_ have wanted them. Because us girls are supposed to want white dresses and first dances right? So what else is left if I didn't want that and honestly – ,"

"Princess."

I blinked,

"Oh, I'm rambling."

"Yeah but only completely, so – y' know – no sweat."

He grinned at me and the look was so loving and lopsided and cute that it made my knees weak and I leaned in and kissed him because next to stroking his arm hairs it was the next best way I knew how to instantly cool down. My lips still felt a little numb from all the action and were buzzing in the full-bodied post orgasm hum but I still felt myself sort of melting against him as we fell back into the framework in a happy little slump.

Breaking apart he pecked me a second time,

"We should just fuckin' do it one night – like – turn up at a tiny little chapel an' make it legal so they can't pull more shit like this an' drag you out there kickin' and screamin' like they have a damn right to be touchin' you at all."

His eyes flashed wildly and I gently thumbed along his cheekbone,

"I knew you would come,"

"I'm fuckin' serious here, the best way I can think of right now to protect you is to get this weddin' thing over an' done an' make sure that nobody in this place can change anythin'."

"So that's the only reason you want to marry me, huh?" I smiled to show that I was very lightly teasing and in response he bit a smirk back and then threw in a chirpy shrug because being all romantic and mushy wasn't his forte although he was by no means as horrible at that kind of thing as he thought.

"Why the hell else would I wanna get hitched to you other than to flip one off at the boss? Not to mention the crafty old bastard that owns the company since he's wrapped up in this shitstorm too."

I blinked,

"Vince is?"

He looked back like I was crazy,

"Lauren, who suggested this genius television spot to you huh? Because I mean sure, he promised that he wouldn't let you get hurt an' you're not exactly injured so in theory he kept his word. You're tellin' me he had no idea what would happen? He played you _and_ me for one of his precious ratings hits which means he is definitely off the fuckin' guest list."

I gaped for a second and then coughed,

"Son of a bitch."

My baffled exclamation and the fire of its delivery made my fiancé laugh lightly at me and then also triggered something else deeper and more needy as his lips moved in again,

"Ready for round two?"

I would have said yes and meant it in a heartbeat had the door handle not suddenly started to move and produced both a yelp and a possible heart attack as somebody else tried to get into the room. Instantly the hot waves of pleasure that had been fuelling me turned into something more panicky and cold as I physically propelled Dean back like he was poison and then scrambled with the layers of my dress,

"Um, hold on."

Based on the fact that I was still pretty sex-buzzed and that the folds of the gown were ridiculously long, reclaiming my underwear seemed almost impossible and wasn't helped by my fiancé watching me struggling with a smile having pulled his own clothes back.

He was still topless though.

Mmmm.

"Dean," I hissed, " _Help me_."

"Alright, alright."

He wandered across and then dipped himself low before me while I tried to hold the massive skirts up before easing the black briefs back into place mercifully, but not before teasingly tapping my sweet spot which made me squeak and was still rumbling through me as he manoeuvred me from the threshold and then flung the door open with an innocent little smile.

Roman was standing looking in at us knowingly,

"Is it safe?"

Dean grinned at him,

"Why wouldn't it be uce?"

Luckily in his hand he was holding my belongings and I let out a sigh and reclaimed them at once, trying to ignore the flush burning my cheeks up and the fact the big man was pointedly _not_ looking my way because obviously I was carrying my conquest like a medal and probably the mortifying embarrassment as well.

"Thank you, um, where – where were they?"

"Matt found them clearing up one of the locker rooms."

"Oh thank god."

"You okay baby girl?"

Dean had moved across to the other side to pull on his shirt and get ready to go, but he looked back at me like the question was an important one and it made me smile and suck a breath in,

"You know what big guy? I think I am."

* * *

 **One more chapter then and I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you do** _ **not**_ **want to miss it. I'll see you then...**


	19. If It's Meant To Be

**Okay, final chapter in this particular story for this couple but I hope you like this ending because personally I really liked the way it turned out. As ever, thank you for those who have followed this story. Every time I write another Dean and Lauren I wonder if people are going to get sick of them, so having people as invested in them as me makes me super happy! New story coming soon!**

 **Skovko, Yep, angry post-nearly-wedding-sex is evidently the best kind for these two and I mean, they could hardly let that empty locker room go to waste! As ever my lovely, thank you for reviewing and keeping up with this weird girl that I write about and her angry wrestler fiancé!**

 **Mandy, Haha, I'm sorry I didn't add you in as a random fan that jumps from the audience and marries Seth on the spot! Next time! Thank you as ever for reviewing and loving this couple so much! More stories on them to come, I promise. I has ideas!**

 **Minnie1015, Lauren and Dean sweetness cavities are the best kind though right? Not going to say anything about your guess, but you might wanna get back to me at the end of the chapter…oh who am I kidding, I know you will! Thanks you for** _ **always**_ **reviewing. You know you rock right?**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Yeah, weddings have historically not turned out too well in this story have they? Lol. Still hopefully you'll like this final chapter I've got for you. I feel like maybe this has been a long time coming. Also, thank you so much for your reviews.**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Ah but that's the beauty of being the owner of the company. Nobody is chasing Vince down to do mean things to him, so he will probably just keep on swaggering around the halls with that crazy walk of his! So glad you were back for this one, thank you for reviewing!**

 **Labinnacslove, Hmmmm, maybe? Don't want to give anything away, so as ever you're gonna have to read to find out! Super happy to have you back on board for the ride with this one. Thank you soooo much for your reviews. Hopefully I'll see you at the next one!**

 **Okay then, for the last time on this one…**

* * *

 **If It's Meant To Be**

For the most part the locations for the weekly live tapings were so far flung it meant hopping on a plane and schlepping from terminal to terminal like zombies while towing our badly packed worldly belongings in our wake. It was an element of the traveling life that I had never been sold on since my relationship with flying was still sketchy at best and usually required me having cling onto someone throughout the taking off and landing processes –

Dean normally.

In fact more than once I had held his hand so forcefully that I had actually pressed in red little fingernail marks and which he had then tried to pretend he hadn't even noticed because he was a big tough wrestler and his species shunned signs of hurt.

 _Roar. Me wrestler. Pain is for puny humans_.

Maybe he simply liked me making it up to him later on?

Fortunately however the night after my _almost marriage_ the hectic traveling schedule actually lucked out on us for once, because instead of having to trail halfway across the country and haul ass through security checks the venues were only six hours apart and so the three of us folded happily back into our rental and hit the road in style with the windows rolled down.

In spite of my having been a literal syllable away from have become Mrs. Orton twelve hours before, the sun was out and it was a beautiful morning with the sort of warm breeze that blew hot through long hair and chased out the residuals of fear and frustration to replace them with feelings that at times bordered on content.

I shut my eyes and hummed a happy note out as it flooded through the window,

"What's the deal with Seth?"

"Huh?"

It was Roman who fired the pivotal question from his position up in front with his broad hands tight on the wheel, or one of them at least since his left elbow was on the doorframe in the quintessential pose of a man at one with his vehicle.

Dean growled back tersely,

"Same deal as always, once a dick weasel _always_ one y' know? I mean, you saw him out there last night when they were tryin' to pull their bullshit."

Roman sighed,

"I saw him try to stop them getting hitched."

His big brown eyes rose up into the rear view and then quickly caught mine in measures of concern, like he wasn't too sure how I was feeling about the whole thing, but which I couldn't really help with because I wasn't too sure. How was anyone supposed to wrap their heads around being tricked into pulling on an actual wedding gown and then being hauled in front of millions of viewers by their father to be made to marry a man who had no concept of consent? If I was totally honest then I felt numb about it as if it had happened to somebody else or like I had dreamt it in some horrible nightmare and then woken up thinking _ooh, that was weird_.

I shrugged in response.

Dean however was far more vocal as he threw a grouchy snort out and then shuffled his big frame back so that he could lift his feet up onto the dashboard in a lazy sort of slump that sat at odds with the way he felt.

"So? He still knew they were gonna pull that shit show but did he give us a heads' up about it? Nope. Not even a fuckin' _hint_. He let them grab her an' get her dressed up an' drag her out there so if you think I should be – like – _grateful_ to him or somethin' then I got news for ya man, that ship has long fuckin' set sail. Dick weasel, nothin' more an' nothin' less to say about him."

Roman blew a fond little snort out,

"Okay then."

But regardless of how my fiancé felt about it, both the bigger man and I knew that he had raised a key point because like it or not Seth _had_ stopped the preacher from uttering the words that would have sealed the whole thing and so therefore had saved me from the black void of a hellscape where Randy and I would have been legally man and wife.

"Ick," I shuddered and involuntarily heaved the word out and blue eyes spun towards me,

"Princess? You alright?"

"Um, I was just thinking."

"Let me take a fuckin' guess about what," Dean rumbled back before twisting a hand through and laying it over my kneecap with a squeeze, "We gotcha baby an' m' not gonna let 'em get to you, I promise okay? I'm gonna keep you safe."

"How?"

It wasn't that I was mistrustful of his sentiments, because if I had learnt anything over the near twelve months I had been with him, then it was that he always but _always_ came through for me. However much like the Wyatts our foe seemed too wily and whereas when we had been facing the bayou monsters it had at least been sort of a three-on-three, suddenly our team had shrunk to only he and Roman while our enemy numbered four and possibly even Vince. Not that I actually believed for one second that the company boss thought Randy and I were meant to be, but he _was_ absolutely hung up on his ratings and so whatever created hot spots I knew he would push to the nth degree. Me being kidnapped repeatedly was good for business and so how I felt about it wasn't something that he took in.

Dean tensed his hand,

"I'll fuckin' think up a solution or somethin' okay?"

"We should just do what you said," I responded sort of absently as I tangled up our fingers and then turned them over to rub his calloused knuckles with my thumb, "You know? Run off and get married and not tell anyone so that way they can't burst in and try to mess things up."

Dean blinked,

"Uh – ,"

 _Oh good god_.

I had frightened him and so I quickly hurried to make it right before he could realize that he no longer wanted to marry me and that actually he was more of a bachelor-type man.

"I'm kidding it's okay, I know we can't do that."

His fingers tightened again and I took that as thanks and so went back to lazily looking out through the window as we slid past cornfields that reminded me of home and let the bright sun warm my poor numbed features and make me feel at one with the world. In front of me I could hear Dean and Roman still talking and their familiar low tones made me further relax and I eventually dozed off to their background of grumbling and Creedence Clearwater Revival lilting softly beyond that.

Dean woke me up again about an hour later,

"Princess?"

"Huh?"

I came to with a start pretty much expecting to be looking at a preacher and feeling somebody holding onto my arms which in my sleep fogged state I thought was likely Randy or somebody else I wouldn't want and so I squeaked a little and then tried to twist out of it before relaxing in an instant as lips ghosted across mine,

"Whoa, it's just me baby."

"Oh – um – I knew that."

Dean snorted a little and then raised his scruffy brows so that the blue eyes sparkled back at me both wry and non-believing as I pretended pretty badly that I hadn't been fast asleep. He was hanging so close to me that for the first several seconds I assumed that he had clambered in to join me on the backseat but as a breeze blew in from somewhere behind him, I realized that the rental had finally stopped and that he was leaning himself in through the open rear doorway.

I kissed him for no other reason than I could do,

"I love you,"

"We've stopped for gas, but there's somethin' you gotta see."

It wasn't exactly the response I had expected considering that I had literally just declared my love, but since his eyes were shining so brightly I sat up a little and clipped off my belt, letting him take my hand and guide me from the vehicle and out to the glamorous sight of a gas pump.

I blinked,

"Oh, wow it's – it's really lovely."

Dean snorted and then turned me around bodily,

"Not that, _that_."

Following the semi-amused point of his fingers I turned from the pumping station and back towards the road which was a busy two-laned and fast flowing piece of asphalt but no more or less inspiring than what I had just been looking at.

"Um – ,"

Luckily however before I could say that I realized his finger was pitched at something beyond and so focussed my eyes on a big white building stood opposite with a pediment and columns and an impressive looking domed top which stood out amongst the sprawl of the modern day metropolis on accounts of its being both pretty and old. Dean swept in behind me and clamped his hands around my stomach before leaning in to use the curve of my neck as a headrest and it made his low register vibrate clean through me as he mumbled his next sentence,

"It's the local courthouse."

"Oh that makes sense, I mean, it's far too nice to be a fast food place or something although the way things are going I guess it's only a matter of time."

It was about as political as I tended to get on things, but I had always felt passionately about the history of the land and so launched right into my one-woman-monologue rather than trying to fathom why he was pointing it out and so therefore was caught by complete surprise by his rejoinder which was delivered with a grin that I could hear but not see.

"Wanna go file us a marriage license Princess?"

"I – sorry, what?"

"I mean, since we're here an' everythin'."

In response I spun around towards him feeling breathless and almost drove my shoulder clean into his throat which he managed to avoid since his reflexes were speedy from having spent his career trying to duck and weave hits.

"Are you – is this you playing a prank on me? Because if it _is_ then it's not very funny you know. People shouldn't tease about certain things with women and I'm pretty sure that anything wedding related is one, besides any jokes about sleeping with mothers or sisters which – well – in my case probably won't be an issue for the most part, unless Steph and Hunter end up having a baby, but then she would be really young and so that would kind of be _ick_."

Dean flicked my nose to stop me from talking like a seven year old boy trying to impress a girl he liked and I jolted a little but at least shut up successfully which was clearly his intention.

He offered up a shrug,

"Hey, this was your idea, you said earlier we should do it an' – ,"

"But only because _you_ said it last night."

"So what you're sayin' here Princess is that you don't wanna do this?"

I blinked at him in a panic,

"What? _No_."

Because the last thing I wanted was him thinking I'd changed my mind on him, which honestly would never have happened in a million years since no way would I have been mad enough to let go of the best thing I had ever had in my bizarre little world. Luckily however he already knew that since he was grinning at me teasingly,

"So then what's the problem here? I mean, it's only a licence right? Doesn't mean we have to get hitched or anythin' because I'm pretty sure we get – like – a year or somethin' to do that."

"But do you _want_ to get married today?"

Dean looked at me and then reached his hand across and tweaked out my lip, which I realized that I had begun to bite pretty hard on in my state of heady panic.

"I'll marry you any fuckin' time."

He stepped in closer and then pressed our lips together while at the same time moving his hand hold to my sides and in particular where my body curved above my hip bones as I leaned into him and pillowed my breasts against his front. It wasn't a heated kiss like we had exchanged in a frenzy the previous night but was calculated instead to cool me off and center my headspace back firmly in the real world which it succeeded through being soft and beautiful and chaste. Mostly when I kissed Dean it made me want to melt into him and somehow become a literal part of who he was and happily the contact by the gap pumps was no exception since it sent me weak-kneed and made me realize something else.

"I want to marry you," I whispered as we parted but kept our heads pressed together,

"I know."

"No, _today_."

For a second he simply blinked back and frowned a little, to the point where I could feel his soft little lashes flickering up and down and briefly tangling in my own. He seemed a little hesitant which was by no means a normal Dean thing and his voice was so grumbly it hardly made sense.

"Y' sure Princess?"

"Uh huh, I'm positive, I want to be with you – _officially_ – right now."

He beamed back suddenly and then kissed me with more passion and childlike rambunctiousness than I had ever known from him and it made me laugh as he threw in his teasing _mwah_ noise and then broke off to pepper smooches right across my face, planting them on me like a blitz attack of kisses until every part of my head was buzzing with love and I was squirming as they ghosted me and tickled and sent my spirits soaring because it simply felt so _right_.

Roman wandered out from the gas station frowning and holding three bottles of coke with potato chips and sandwiches in his hand too,

"Uh, what am I missing here?"

I giggled,

"We're getting married."

"Uh huh, yeah I know that."

Dean waved a hand across the road as he kept on kissing me in obvious enjoyment at my protesting little squeals and then stopped long enough to fill in the gaps for our bewilderedly blinking brother,

"Like _now_ man, over there."

His brown eyes followed the pointing finger like I had done but clued in a lot faster to what was being said, because he coughed in surprise but then grinned like an idiot as he looked back at us,

"Damn uce, congrats man."

Roman crossed the distance towards us speedily and then took his teammate and brother by the hand before pumping it up and down with manly enthusiasm while clapping him solidly over the back in a one-armed hug. It was nice that someone was completely ecstatic for us since there were few enough people beyond him who would have been and in which I included my turncoat of a father who had practically thrown me onto that path. I wondered briefly how my mother-in-law would take it, because she had already been pissy about the engagement being under wraps. Possibly missing the big day itself would fire her up again which wasn't the best of ways for us to start our married life.

Mother-in-law.

Mother.

 _Ouch_.

It stuck in my gullet as I remember pretty starkly that my own mom would not be there and I lifted a hand to unconsciously rub at the pendant that Dean had made me for Christmas but which had previously been hers. Knowing she wouldn't be there in person killed me and I bit back a sob that was suddenly keen to slip out because _god_ if I wasn't still angry about it and why it had been _my_ mom who had been taken so young.

"Ugh – ,"

"I know," Dean murmured back from out of nowhere, removing my hand from where it was fondling the chain and then holding my fingers to stop them from twitching, "I know okay? It isn't fuckin' fair."

"I miss her so much."

"We don't have to do this, I mean, if you wanna get hitched in your hometown or some shit – ,"

I shook my head,

"But she won't be there either and – ," I blew a steadying breath out, "I _want_ to get married right here and right now, I want to be able to walk through gorilla with my head held high tonight and a big ring on my hand, I want everyone in the world to know you got me and that I got you."

He kissed me,

"Fuckin' amen to that."

Roman was still stood off to one side of us, watching in the soothing _big brother_ way that he had, letting us come to our own natural conclusion before quirking his lips a little.

"So are we doing this baby girl? Because I got your limo right here," He swept his big hands out and flamboyantly indicated our trusty rental car before tugging down his shirt like he was neatening up his uniform and then even tipping an imaginary hat.

I grinned and then made my decision,

"Yep, we're doing it."

In response he popped my door and helped me into the car and I sat back against the seat and then internally screamed a little because we were actually doing it and the whole thing felt _right_. I had meant what I'd said when I had shunned a big wedding but it had only been partly because my father had ruined the thought. I had _also_ turned against it because I had never been able to fully picture Dean in a suit with groomsmen or in a church. No matter how many times I had envisaged our nuptials I had never been able to make him really _fit_ since I had wanted our wedding to be a reflection of both of us but country clubs and ballrooms were in no way his thing. What his thing _was_ however was standing in a courthouse in his jeans and a baseball cap looking comfortable and super hot and so that was why it felt like we were making the right decision.

Location wasn't important as long as we had love.

Never before having filed for a wedding license I was kind of surprised by how speedy the entire process was and also hugely thankful for our nomadic sort of lifestyle meaning that we had passports and identification to hand. In the end it was simply a matter of signing papers, proving that we were us then paying the seventy dollar free.

From there we had our marriage license –

 _Hey presto_.

Dean had looked up at me,

"Still time to back out of this, I mean, we could can this one and have the ceremony back in your hometown or _my_ hometown because you know how nice _that_ is."

"Funny."

But no, I had still wanted to do it and so as Roman and Dean had gone off to check for openings on the basis that the courthouse would be rammed with newlyweds, I had slid into the bathroom to freshen up and put in an emergency call to my best friend who was the only other person that I wished could have been there. I skipped the telephone and instead went straight to FaceTime.

"Hey Laurie are you – are you calling me from a _bathroom_?"

"Um, yep, I'm in the courthouse."

"Has Dean been arrested?"

I blinked in confusion that her mind would go there and then remembered how much he had pummelled at Randy and how reckless he could be in general and figured that it made sense.

"Not exactly."

Kelly was sitting at her big kitchen table with my godson Roger bouncing merrily on her knee and looking even bigger than he had the last time I had seen him which hardly seemed possible since he had been pretty huge back then. It was seriously like the kid had a bicycle pump in him that kept him inflated in a happy baby sort of a way. I was still working on that image when Kelly gasped at me and so loudly that I very nearly let go of my phone.

"Oh my god, you're getting _married_?!"

I nodded,

"Uh huh, but please don't be mad."

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because we're doing it without you and Brent here and because I'm denying you the whole maid of honor thing and because we're not going to sip champagne in a dress shop and get the chance to cry because I've found the right dress or have a bachelorette party or – ,"

Kelly interrupted me,

"Laurie sweetie, breathe for me here,"

"Um, okay."

I took a few gulps of oxygen as requested and was pleased to find that I calmed back down, because Kelly being mad at me had been the one hiccup that I had felt could possibly derail our plans and so the fact she wasn't was hugely relieving or at least she didn't _seem_ to be.

"Is this what you want honey?"

I nodded emphatically,

"More than anything."

"Then I'm behind you all the way and honestly, bachelorette parties are _not_ my favorite thing ever and I think we both know you would have hated it too, plus there are a million other milestones we can bawl about, like your first anniversary or baby so don't you worry about that."

Her eyes were gazing back firmly through the phone screen, being careful to reassure me with every last word and I sniffed a little and then threw a crooked grin at her,

"You're the best friend ever, you know that right?"

"Damn right I do, but forget about me what are you going to wear for it?"

I spent the next ten minutes running her through my traveling clothes as she helped me to pick my best long white shirt dress with the sheer overlay around the neck which made it feminine and then the singular pair of heels I had that weren't actually boots. For some unknown reason I had saved the flower garland that Stephanie had pressed onto my head the night before, mainly because the thing was delicate and pretty and so had therefore deserved a better showing than it had got. My plan had been to maybe display the thing somewhere, but with Kelly's approval, I put it over my hair, which I kept long and flowing in a flip at my stepmother who had instead chosen to twist my long locks up.

Roman tapped awkwardly on the door,

"Uh, baby girl?"

"Is everything okay?"

"If you're quick they can squeeze you guys in right now."

Breath billowed out of me in a rush of excitement but also anticipation and a teensy bit of fear,

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"Um, in that case I'm all ready."

I stepped out from round the corner and then grinned in sheer fondness at the single finger holding back the only fractionally open door as Roman adhered to the age old tradition of men not setting foot inside the ladies' bathroom but which was totally shy-seeming and super cute. I reached out and pulled it wider before biting my lip bashfully and then shrugging massively awkwardly,

"Ta-da."

He exhaled heavily,

"Baby girl you look beautiful."

"Even without a proper dress and flowers and – ,"

Roman pulled me closer in a sudden brotherly type hug and I nuzzled myself into his broad chest fondly before folding my arms in tight because I loved him so much and was so incredibly grateful for his being there and for never _once_ having let us down. In the moment it made me miss Seth pretty keenly but at least there was now the hope that someday he might come back and that the feelings he had held for us were not totally broken since he had saved me from something terrible and so had therefore saved Dean as well.

Kelly broke the moment by screaming suddenly,

" _Brent, get down here, Laurie and Dean are getting hitched_."

Roman snorted and it made my hair ruffle but I pulled myself away from him grinning as well, because somehow all the people I cared about in life were there, either physically or technologically.

It had worked out pretty well.

Panting noises alerted us to Brent arriving on the phone screen, wearing only a shirt, boxers and a black pair of socks and clearly having been interrupted in the middle of getting ready for what he had probably assumed was another standard day of work.

"What did you just say? Lauren and Dean are – ," Brent stopped as he noticed me peering back at him from inside the screen of his wife's rose pink cell and blinked a little before waggling his fingers and grinning a little, "Um, hey, ignore the clothes."

Kelly was more succinct,

"Go get your man Laurie, we'll be watching, we love you girl."

Blowing them a kiss I handed the phone to Roman and then took my final fortifying breath, before heading over the threshold and turning towards the lobby feeling hazy and pumped up and sort of trancelike all in one.

 _I was getting married_?

 _I was getting married_.

My stupor lasted right through Roman leading me up the staircase onto the second floor of the big historic haunt being careful to keep holding up my live streaming cell phone in his brand new unofficial photography and video capacity as well as he turned the handle of a pair of big doors and then nodded me through with a warm looking grin,

"I'm real crazy proud of the both of you baby girl and before you do this, I just want to say thank you for making my brother so happy this last year and for loving him so much."

"Aww, thank _you_ for being _our_ brother."

He kissed my forehead,

"Always gonna be too."

Moving across the threshold two faces looked up at us from somewhere across the far side of the room, which was actually pretty nice and surrounded by elegantly carved woodwork that I figured was likely lost on the usual clientele since the room was laid out exactly like on Judge Judy so therefore was probably more used to neighbor disputes. Both of the figures in front turned to look at me but there was only one person that I cared for of the two and the look on his face made me involuntarily bite my lip hard because I couldn't believe that he was going to be mine.

 _Ugh_.

Dean was wearing the same blue pants he'd been in earlier but he had switched into a plain black round neck top which made his muscles bulge tantalizingly against the threads of it and he had tousled his fingers through his hair at some point too which hadn't exactly made it look any neater but had fluffed his bangs up into an adorable nest. His blue eyes blinked over at me a couple of times in amazement and then softened at the corners as a crooked smile crossed his lips and I took it to mean that he was on board with my outfit and was as happy to see me as I was to see him.

Roman stopped me as I went to walk towards him,

"Whoa, hold up."

He put out his elbow and my heart almost exploded as I threaded my arm through, because while the big man wasn't my father he was better than that and we all knew it as well.

Kelly sniffed loudly,

"Oh god he's so perfect,"

"Honey," Brent hissed, "He can hear you."

"I know."

Beaming broadly and very nearly trotting I was so madly keen to get to where he was, I reached Dean breathless and giggling like an idiot with my face feeling tingly and likely bright red from the happy buzz. In turn he looked me up and down appraisingly and with a lopsided expression as he fought back a grin and then he tweaked at the folds of my shirt dress a little before growling at me,

"How did you know this was – like – my all-time favorite dress you own?"

"It is?"

"Uh huh," Dean let it go again somewhat reluctantly and then moved his hand towards my neck whereupon he began to hunt beneath the collar before catching up my necklace and pulling it out.

Mom.

I heaved a breath in then looked up tearily but it wasn't so much sad as a million things in one and knowing it he rearranged the pendent above my buttons making sure it was visible like he wanted my mom to see.

"Ready Princess?" Dean asked and I nodded and then seized his hand up to underline that fact only instead of answering I let out a snort noise, which was hardly the most romantic sounding reaction but which made him grin and tug me forward nevertheless, "Then let's fuckin' do this."

He roughly kissed my nose tip and then pulled me towards where the waiting officiant was and I was faced by a middle aged woman with a bowl haircut who smiled at me with kind motherly eyes. Roman moved in to stand close beside us holding up Kelly and Roger and Brent in one hand, while the other held his own shucked off wedding band and a twisted hair tie which I gathered were going to be our temporary rings. Dean saw me looking and whispered into my ear gruffly,

"First thing tomorrow baby, we'll get the real thing okay?"

I teased his hair through my fingers,

"Doesn't matter, as long as we're married I honestly don't care."

My heart was in my throat as he stepped back and looked at me, holding my hands in his rough calloused palms and both of us feeling unusually nervous but only in the very very _best_ kind of sense because the biggest adventure was still to come and after everything we had been through and everything that had been done _to_ us, we were still together and deeper than ever in love. My best friend was looking on and so was my brother and I knew my mother was somewhere too and it put a fire in my soul since I had ended up right in the place where I was meant to be.

I mouthed _I love you_ at Dean and then suppressed a giggle as the officiant started with the words that would change our lives and that I had heard once already but which felt so much more perfect the second time around.

"Dearly beloved – ,"

 _Lauren Ambrose_.

Holy crap I liked the sound of that.

* * *

 **Ta-da! They're married! Which they never would have been if you guys hadn't kept on reading about them, so again, THANK YOU!**

 **Next story will feature Dean and a brand new Lauren Ambrose! It's going to be called** _ **Love You To Death**_ **and will be coming sometime in September, so look out for that!**


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